Not so mythical myths
by trekfreak2008
Summary: Set shortly after Nero. Ancient Greece is the last thing you expect on a diplomatic mission.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Star Trek of any sort, and do not do this for profit. _

_**Author's note:**__ This story is for DataLady91, who has helped me and been my friend on this site through thick and thin. I hope you like it!_

_**Summary:**__ Ancient Greece and our favourite trio. What could possible go wrong?_

The shuttle cruised slowly on its way to the planet Shaaroon, where the shuttle's three occupants were scheduled to arrive in just under an hour. They had been ordered to the planet in order to form part of a committee that would officially welcome Shaaroon to the Federation. It was their first diplomatic mission, and they were aware that they would be evaluated on their performance.

The Enterprise was to pick them up from the surface when the ceremonies were finished, as it was still being repaired at a nearby star base after Nero. The repairs had taken a lot longer than predicted, and even being in the second month of work, it did not appear as though they would be in any battles soon.

Although the shuttle was on autopilot, the passengers remained in the control room, enjoying watching space, stars and planets as they drifted past sedately. A sun glowed as it twinkled a few miles away, throwing the planets nearby into mysterious shadow, and asteroids whizzed past with no apparent direction. Occasionally one would slam into another, and separated into tiny pieces they would career off into the dark infinity of space. It was a dance of cosmic proportions.

Likewise the atmosphere inside the shuttle was tranquil with everyone content to just wait in comfortable silence until they reached their destination. Each man wore their dress uniform in honour of the planet representatives, although none were yet wearing their high necked jackets.

James Kirk, Captain of the USS Enterprise and youngest person to reach that rank to date, was relaxing in his chair and watching the view with an excited expression that could never be hidden. His eyes twinkled with delight at the wonders of the universe which would never be dimmed. Since his promotion, he had had a more regal air of success about him that automatically gained the respect of his crew, and his fair hair glinted in the star light and made his gold tunic look dull in comparison. Over the back of his chair lay everybody's jackets in the pattern of blue-gold-blue.

Near the controls sat First Officer Spock, who had been the first Vulcan to serve aboard a non Vulcan ship, and who had quickly become known as the best First Officer in the Fleet. He regarded the screen before him in scientific interest, his mind putting the physics to the picture before him. His appearance was immaculate as always, and he sat in his chair with perfect calm, his hands clasped together on his lap.

Opposite Captain Kirk sat the esteemed Doctor McCoy, Chief Medical Officer to the Enterprise. He radiated skill and knowledge, his quick and observant eyes picking out the details in the landscape before him with ease. Although reluctant to attend the ceremony and adamant that the shuttle ride would be dangerous, he seemed to have reluctantly accepted his fate and now sat resignedly with his arms crossed over his chest. He eyed the formal tunics occasionally, contempt written all over his face.

Kirk's voice cut through the silence, but it was not an unwelcome interruption. "How long until we get there Spock?"

His First Officer immediately consulted the computer, efficiency in every movement. "We will arrive in approximately forty five point five two minutes Captain."

McCoy, as expected, snorted. "Oh yeah, that's approximate." Spock ignored him completely, used to such comments by now.

Kirk sighed and handed the others their formal tunics. "Let's get dressed."

"Jim, we have forty five minutes!" McCoy protested, eying the offending piece of clothing with malice.

"Forty five point five two minutes, Doctor," Spock corrected.

Kirk smiled slightly at his First Officer's reply and shrugged at McCoy. "It's something to do."

"You're determined to torture me," McCoy groaned.

"Then don't stick so many hypos in my neck next time."

Spock, oblivious to the mini argument unfolding before him, spoke next. "Doctor, the Captain is offering you the opportunity to adjust to the tunic before the ceremony proceeds. Once you have adjusted, it will be easier to focus on the matters at hand."

McCoy groaned again, more dramatically this time. He pulled his jacket on and made a show of wincing as he did up the top button. "Now that I can't breathe I'm sure I'll be more efficient."

Kirk grinned at him. "You'll get used to it."

"Somehow I doubt that."

"The situation is unavoidable. I fail to understand your reason to complain."

"Of course you would; you like these things."

An eyebrow rose. "I have no opinion on our uniform, Doctor."

Kirk raised his hand to stop the argument before it escalated out of control. "Ok, I think we've established Spock likes the uniform. Bones, at least _try_ to put up with it."

"Alright," McCoy murmured in defeat, sighing once more.

Kirk sat back, chuckling slightly. "I'm starting to sound like a parent."

"Yeah well don't make a habit of it Jim. I _always_ have a hypo ready; remember that."

"Threats are illogical as the Captain would not be required to act like a 'parent' if you ceased your redundant complaints."

"He's got you there," Kirk said cheerfully, helping himself to a drink from the replicator nearby.

A flashing light went off on the console, and Spock turned around to examine it. "Curious."

"What is it?" Kirk asked.

"It would appear that an ion storm is approaching."

McCoy looked up at the ceiling in exasperation. "Haven't we had enough space storms yet?"

Kirk frowned at the view screen where a medium sized blob had formed. "Shit that's big. Can we avoid it?"

"I do not believe so. We are directly in its path and it is moving at a remarkable speed."

"How much will it interfere with our equipment?"

"I cannot be certain Captain, however navigation and shields may no longer be operable while we are in its midst."

McCoy was beginning to look worried. "I knew it Jim! Shuttle crafts are unsafe and we just happen to be in the one that's about to get vaporised."

"We are not in danger of being 'vaporised'," Spock replied in slight annoyance.

"Can you keep us on course?" Kirk asked, completely ignoring the doctor for the moment.

Spock shook his head slightly and stared at the incoming storm. "I do not know, but I will attempt to keep the shuttle stationary until it has passed."

"How long have we got?"

The Vulcan consulted the computer once again. "Approximately five minutes Captain. I cannot accurately predict the exact moment of impact."

"At least I lived long enough to hear that," McCoy announced to the room at large.

"Alright, everybody sit down," Kirk ordered. McCoy obeyed but Spock stood up. "Spock, this isn't time to play at opposites! Sit down!"

"I require full mobility in order to manually operate the console."

Kirk hurriedly unstrapped himself. "I'll help."

"Are you _nuts_?" McCoy demanded angrily. "If- _when_ -we crash, you could both be killed!"

Spock seemed to consider this option hard for a minute before turning to Kirk. "Captain, Doctor McCoy is correct. You must remain seated."

"You need help Spock," Kirk insisted, refusing to sit down.

"I am quite capable of operating the shuttle without assistance," Spock countered. "However as you are the Captain you must take the necessary precautions. You are a valuable member of Star Fleet."

"And you're not?" Kirk fired back. "Sorry Spock but I'm not buying that."

"I am expendable."

"Spock's right Jim." McCoy insisted.

"I am the logical choice," Spock pressed.

Kirk did not appear to be as easily persuaded. "Spock..."

The console wailed.

"Captain, we do not have sufficient time for a debate. I suggest that you sit down."

The ship shuddered and Kirk was forced into his seat, but he did not have time to fasten his restraints before the ship began to career from side to side as it was battered by the storm. The Captain staggered drunkenly, momentarily thrown off balance before crashing into a console and banging his head hard enough to see stars.

"Jim!" With a concerned cry, McCoy began to unstrap himself.

"Remain seated," Spock snapped. "I will tend to the captain."

"You need to control the craft." Before Spock could argue McCoy was at Kirk's side. He shook his friend gently. "Are you alright Jim?"

Kirk groaned in response and opened one eye. "Bones, what was I drinking?"

"Damn it Jim, we're on a shuttle craft not a pub." McCoy performed a quick examination, although his speed was hampered by the lurching of the shuttle. "He's got one hell of a concussion," he reported over his shoulder.

"What is your recommended treatment?"

McCoy paused to stare at the Vulcan incredulously. "You're not seriously suggesting I treat him _now_ are you? The shuttle's shaking too much!"

"Your observance never fails to astound me doctor."

McCoy's mouth dropped open in shock. "Spock, you picked the _worst_ time to learn human sarcasm."

The shuttle rocked violently and Spock's fingers flew frantically over the console. "Kindly relocate the Captain," he asked absent mindedly as he almost tripped over the prone body on the floor.

McCoy didn't like to move him, but he did as he was told. Hooking his arms under Kirk's, he began dragging his semi- unconscious friend gently to the back of the shuttle, getting pinned beneath him when the floor disappeared suddenly from beneath his feet.

Struggling to get free of Kirk's dead weight without further injuring him, McCoy was in a perfect position to see what happened next.

Spock reached to the back of his console, his attention stolen by an urgently blinking red light. Suddenly the ship bucked violently, sending McCoy skidding backwards and Kirk crashing into him yet again. Spock managed to stay by the console, and continued working frantically to keep the shuttle stationary but a panel near his face exploded loudly. Staggering, Spock crashed backwards and slumped into an empty chair, blood pouring from various gashes in his face.

The Vulcan tried to get back to his feet and managed to lurch a few steps. His arms reaching for the console like a thirsty man reaching for water, he sank to his knees, green liquid spotting his uniform.

Abruptly concerned, McCoy managed to make his way to the front of the ship, deciding that Kirk could survive without a doctor for a while. He was by the First Officer's side in an instant, grasping him by the shoulders in an attempt to keep his half conscious patient upright.

"Spock, can you hear me?"

Not even opening his eyes, the Vulcan turned towards him. "Doctor you will need to navigate."

"_You're_ the damn pilot! I don't know the first thing about flying!"

"I cannot see, Doctor. You are the only one capable of piloting the craft at this moment." The Vulcan's voice had grown weaker and he was no longer able to remain upright without considerable help from McCoy.

"Fine," McCoy agreed, laying his commanding officer down gently. "You'll have to tell me what to do." He got no reply. "Great, fall unconscious on me why don't you..."

Grumbling and with shaking hands, McCoy loomed over the blinking lights and flick switches, trying to make head or tail of what he was doing. He glanced at a blinking light and flicked the switch next to it. The light flickered out.

"Well, we're not dead yet. That can only be good," he muttered to himself as he tried to work out what to do next.

Mouth dry, he managed to recall his basic navigating skills, and pushed buttons or turned dials as seemed appropriate. The shuttle steadied slightly and he felt relief wash over him. He heard a movement behind him and saw Spock struggling to sit up.

There was a tremendous crunching as the craft was bombarded by several fragments of meteors, and a large dent appeared in the ceiling. He swore ferociously.

Stunned back into action, McCoy span back to the panel and began frantically trying to steer the craft back onto what he hoped was its course. He was thrown onto the panel as the front of the craft dipped down, and Kirk began sliding across the floor, this time crashing into Spock. McCoy dimly heard the Captain slurring an apology in the background.

The head of the shuttle rose suddenly and without warning, and McCoy barely managed to stop himself from tumbling down the near vertical floor. A green smeared hand was next to his clutching the console tightly. Spock, although blinded by the explosion, had managed to find the console and hang onto it, his other arm wrapped around Kirk's middle to prevent the Captain from falling.

All passengers were thrown onto the console when the craft once again went into a nose dive, and white flared around the viewing screen.

They were burning up.

Just before they reached the critical point, McCoy managed to level out the shuttle. He was still frantically pushing buttons when they crashed.

oOo

Atticus, a servant in the palace of King Minos of Crete, stopped his work as his eye caught an object falling out of the sky. At first he thought that he was seeing a chariot of the Gods, but as it drew closer he saw that it did not look like a chariot in shape.

Smoke billowed from behind it, leaving a trail of evil streamed across the sky, blocking out the healthy looking blue. Astonished, he remained rooted to the spot and remembered what the story teller had told him just days ago.

He had warned him of an evil that came from the skies, of monsters that breathed fire and that had one eye. There had not been another landing for years, and the story teller had claimed that another was due soon.

Other workers began looking up in amazement, only to begin shouting and panicking when they saw what it was. Noise assaulted Atticus' ears as people ran past, and he saw the king stroll into the palace grounds.

Servants flocked around Minos and begged him to save them from the mysterious object from the sky. One servant grabbed the King's clothes and pleaded for protection, but the cruel leader simply kicked the man aside. The hapless servant was soon trampled by others who were seeking the attention of their ruler.

The royal story teller had been summoned, and now stared at the sky in a mixture of fascination and horror, his legs shaking beneath him. The object crashed in a nearby area and the panic intensified. Finally King Minos raised his arms and everyone became quiet out of respect.

"Back to work you miserable servants!"

They all rushed to obey, except for Atticus who remained rooted to the spot, gazing at the landing site. He directed his earnest stare to the sky and narrowed his eyes against the glaring sun. "What have we done to deserve such punishment?" He murmured softly.

King Minos noticed that not all servants were working. "You!" He bellowed and Atticus jumped. "Come here!"

Fearfully, Atticus scurried forwards and bowed at the King's feet, terror racking his frame. He had been caught resting on the job. Surely he would be punished severely.

"Why were you not working?" Atticus remained silent. "You have a tongue- answer me!"

He forced his mouth to cooperate and tried not to stammer in front of the fearsome leader. "I...I... was distracted..." To lie was to double the punishment, so he did not lie.

"Distracted," Minos sneered. "Guards, take him to the maze."

"No!" Atticus screamed, forgetting his place. "Please! I..."

"Enough," Minos declared, lazily raising a hand. "Take him."

Atticus felt himself being jerked to his feet and struggled to break free, but was no match for the guards on either side of him. As he was dragged away, he heard the King order for the creatures in the sky to be brought to him.

He screamed and kicked as the maze loomed up in front of him, the smooth high walls bearing no possibility for escape whatsoever. Guards patrolled the only door when people were placed inside, in the event that they tried to run back out.

He stopped struggling as they reached the door, his heart in his throat. "Do I get a weapon?"

"No," the guard scoffed, and the other laughed.

"I saw others go in with weapons!" Atticus insisted, desperate by this time.

"We don't know what you're talking about, slave," the first guard laughed.

He felt the fear bubbling up within him as he was thrown inside, and smelt the decaying of half eaten flesh. Small torches lined the walls and he tried to take one to use as a weapon, but they were attached to the holder.

There was a shuffling and growling that penetrated the darkness, and his hair stood on end. The Minotaur.

He took a step further into the light, his foot sending a smashed skull sliding across the floor. He tried not to look at it, knowing that he would meet the same fate.

Any thoughts of fighting for his life disappeared as the creature came out of the darkness and loomed over him. The bull's head balanced grotesquely on a human man's body, its eyes sizing Atticus up.

"Meat," the creature growled hungrily, the primitive sound coming deep from within the chest.

The guards outside pretended not to hear the screaming and tearing of flesh as the Minotaur devoured its latest meal. Unnoticed, blood seeped out from under the door.

oOo

_**Author's note:**__ This was my first attempt at writing for Star Trek 2009, so I apologise if the characters aren't quite right. I'm probably still in 'TOS mode'. Anyway, feel free to tell me how to improve!_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's note: **At this point I would also like to thank Musingsage for patiently reading my work and offering pointers. Also thanks to those who have read this so far._

_oOo_

The shuttle was a wreck; smoke filled the room like air and consoles were smashed where the wall had been dented by the impact.

Coughing, McCoy dragged himself to his feet, expecting to feel intense pain from the crash. Yet he felt nothing. He frowned. He'd only been on the ship for a short while, but it had already become apparent that lucky escapes such as this weren't exactly common among the crew of the Enterprise. Then again, the fact that they'd already crashed the shuttle seemed about right, all things considered.

Remembering that Spock had been by his feet, he bent down and crawled along the floor, unable to see in the smoke and unwilling to cause either the captain or the first officer any additional injury.

His fingers found a warm body and he shook the shoulders gently. "Bones?" Kirk's voice was surprisingly strong and clear as he began to sit up. "What happened?"

McCoy moved to help him. "Careful Jim, you have a head injury and I don't want you moving so fast you throw up on me."

"Head injury? Throwing up? What are you..." they were interrupted by an exploding console.

"We have to get out," McCoy announced urgently, locating Spock and waking him as well.

Together, they managed to exit the shuttle and emerged in the sunlight, coughing and spluttering. Working on automatic, McCoy moved to examine Kirk's head, but the captain jerked free of his grip.

"No hypos, Bones. I'm fine."

"I'll be the judge of that," McCoy snapped, yanking Kirk's head closer. "There's nothing there."

Kirk raised a fist and gently tapped the side of his own skull. "See? Tough as steel." He considered the doctor for a while. "What? You look surprised."

"Damn right I'm surprised! Don't you remember what happened at all?"

Kirk thought for a moment and then probed his head where the wound had been, dawning comprehension written on his face. "Didn't I bang my head?"

"Yes." He turned to the First Officer, having made sure that the Captain was uninjured. "Spock, how are your eyes?"

"They are functioning perfectly."

They all turned to the destroyed shuttle in disbelief. "How the hell did we survive that?" Kirk asked.

No one answered his question; they were all too busy surveying their surroundings. McCoy took in the stone buildings and rough paths in confusion. This looked nothing like the planet Shaaroon. "Where are we?"

"We appear to be in ancient Greece."

Kirk laughed. "That's funny- really, where are we?"

Spock patiently repeated his earlier answer. "This is insane!" McCoy finally exploded.

"Doctor, I assure you that the situation, if it were a sentient being, would be perfectly sane."

"Oh really?" McCoy questioned, gesturing the landscape. "We're on the wrong planet, and you call that a _sane_ situation?"

"How many times have we had the whole 'sane argument'?" Kirk asked tiredly, running a hand through his hair.

"Approximately ten times."

"Right," Kirk sighed. "If this is going to happen every time you two are together, remind me never to go on another away mission with both of you on the same team."

Spock raised his eyebrow and McCoy 'harumphed'. Satisfied that the argument was now over, Kirk got to his feet and brushed the dusty ground off his uniform. "Now all we need to do," he announced, "is make a plan."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "Profound, Jim."

"There appear to be guards approaching us," Spock suddenly said, pointing into the distance.

McCoy hastily stood and looked in the direction of Spock's pointing finger. "I have a bad feeling about this." He eyed the Vulcan warily. "Spock, maybe you should hide your ears if we're in ancient Greece. They'll probably think you're an evil spirit."

Spock bristled slightly. "Doctor, such an effort is impossible as I have no means of hiding my ears."

Kirk appeared to think for a moment. "You could tie a bandana around your head." Spock gave the Vulcan equivalent of an 'are you kidding' look to Kirk. "It was just a suggestion."

One of the guards reached them and stepped forwards. On his head he wore a plume helmet which ruffled slightly in the breeze, the light reflecting off the gold medal so that it flashed when he turned his head. Keeping his shield raised slightly, he lowered the spear to prevent any sudden movements on their part.

"You, where are you from?" He did not give them enough time to answer. "You came from the sky, is this true?"

"Uh... yes?" Kirk replied, clearly unsure of what he was supposed to say to a Greek warrior who had never seen a spaceship before.

"Then you must come with us."

"Where exactly are you taking us?" Kirk asked.

"That is not important. Come."

"Jim, I don't think we have a choice."

The guards laughed at McCoy and dragged the three officers roughly down a small path that appeared to lead to a temple or a palace of some sort. A man dressed in regal materials came down to meet them, and the guards bowed low. Kirk, Spock and McCoy remained standing.

"You will bow before your King," the man snarled. The three officers exchanged looks before eventually bowing. "You will take them to the interrogation cell."

The guards muttered respectfully and rose to their feet, dragging their three prisoners behind them. They were lead through what appeared to be a maze of corridors, where the occasional servant hurried past miserably. The colours and layout of the building was simple, yet somehow managed to convey a certain amount of wealth and subtle menace; it fitted perfectly the man they had seen.

"Nice," Kirk whispered in awe.

A guard gave him a severe look and raised a fist threateningly. "You will not speak."

The Captain put his hands up in a placating gesture, giving McCoy raised eyebrows when the man turned around and kept walking. Finally, they reached the 'interrogation' chamber.

The room was below ground, dank and smelly without a trace of a window in sight. On tables around the room were various weapons of torture, protruding threateningly from seemingly endless shadows. One of the guards forced Kirk in while the other officers were dragged away.

More guards appeared from the corridors. Two stayed outside and three burly men stepped into the ominous gloom, the door slamming shut behind them. Kirk forced his heart beat to slow and his breathing to calm. There was no chance of escape, but he would not give his captors any satisfaction.

A man who seemed to be in charge stepped forwards. "Who sent you here?"

"To tell you the truth, I'm not sure."

The guard sneered at him. "Are you trying to be funny?"

Kirk shook his head but couldn't help a cocky grin. "No, I'm being serious. For once I have no idea what I'm doing."

The guard shifted his weight in preparation to strike, and Kirk stepped backwards instinctively. The other guards moved to surround him.

"You will cooperate. Who sent you?"

Kirk spread his hands to show that he meant no harm. The guards continued to eye him suspiciously. "We crashed. If you don't believe me; check the wreckage."

"Where were you going?" Mindful of the Prime Directive, Kirk did not immediately answer. He received a powerful blow to the stomach. "Answer me."

"I can't answer you." The guard sneered at him and indicated his weapons. Kirk nodded. "You've got a wide variety there," he noted.

"Tell me why you are here."

Kirk resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I told you; we crashed."

The guard punched him twice, knocking the air cruelly out of his lungs. "I grow tired of your answers." He paused, a thought apparently occurring to him. "You were sent by the enemies of Zeus to wreck havoc on the land."

"Zeus?" Kirk frowned in confusion, vague legends drifting through his mind. "Can't say I know him well enough to get revenge on him."

"I don't believe you." He turned to the man next to him. "Tell King Minos that we have an answer." The guard scurried off hurriedly.

"Wait a minute..." Kirk began.

The guard interrupted him. "Take this scum to his friends. We'll wait for the King's orders on what to do with them. Hopefully it'll be the maze." There was a general murmur of enthused agreement.

As he was dragged away through the dank chambers, his newly acquired bruises were unimportant next to what he was thinking.

Ancient Greece? How could it even be possible?

Vaguely he remembered the storm that had rocked the ship before they crashed, but could it have caused them to travel back through time and space?

If they _were_ in the ancient Greece of Earth, then they had no way of escaping with a shuttle craft that was completely destroyed. To make things even more confusing, they should never have survived the crash landing, yet none of them even had the slightest of injuries.

There was also the chance that they had drifted off course during the storm and were now on an uncharted planet that had evolved in a similar way to Earth. So far, the resemblance was uncanny. He suddenly wished for the older Spock's experience in dealing with situations like this. He could really use some answers.

Giving up on working out why they were here, he thought back to his short and so called 'interrogation'. He was sure that the leader had been a man of thoroughness, who never left a job half done. It was written in the way that he moved, and hidden in the way that he spoke. Yet the interrogation had seemed half hearted, as though the man thought he already knew the answer and was scared of Kirk because of this, or because they were intimidated by him and willing to jump to any conclusion as long as it explained what had happened.

Either way, they were in trouble.

His thoughts were rudely interrupted when he was shoved into a Greek cell, skidding slightly on the smooth floor as he tripped. Many people had been here before, and the once rough floor had been worn down over the torturous years.

"Jim?" McCoy gazed at him anxiously, a hand resting lightly on his arm.

Kirk moved away slowly to show that he was uninjured. "They only asked me a few questions."

The Doctor looked doubtful. "From the looks of things I'd say they were painful."

"Just a few bruises Bones." Kirk's expression became grim. "It looks like we're in trouble."

"I suspect that to be an understatement," Spock replied.

Kirk continued his speech, ignoring the Vulcan's uncharacteristic sarcasm completely. "But then I guess it depends on what you know about ancient Greece and King Minos' maze."

"Maze?" McCoy asked incredulously, and Kirk nodded sombrely. "Of all the planets we could crash land on, we _have_ to find this one."

"If I am correct in my recollections," Spock intoned, "this maze means certain death."

McCoy rolled his eyes at the Vulcan. "Nothing gets past you, does it?" He sat down wearily. "So much for being a myth." A thought suddenly occurred to him. "Do minotaurs even _exist_?"

"Probably," Kirk muttered, walking around the cell and carefully searching for a weak spot in the walls. "I don't know about you two, but I don't like the idea of finding out."

"The walls are structurally sound. The only possible escape route is the window." Spock pointed.

Kirk looked out of it. "We can't scale the walls and it's too high to jump."

"Unless you're a pigeon."

"Unfortunately Doctor, we are not," Spock replied dryly.

"Maybe we could be," Kirk suddenly said thoughtfully as he watched the pigeons in the rafters.

"What?"

Kirk turned at the sound of McCoy's voice to see the doctor staring at him like he was deranged. Which, he admitted, he probably was. "Maybe we could have wings."

McCoy and Spock exchanged worried glances as Kirk began piling up stray feathers. "Captain..." the Vulcan seemed to be at a loss for words.

"Jim, just how hard did that guard punch you?"

"Trust me; I know what I'm doing."

"But it's insane! Do you really think we can just _fly_ out the window?" McCoy sputtered.

Kirk stopped what he was doing and looked McCoy in the eye. "If I said yes, what would you do?"

"Make a straight jacket out of those feathers," McCoy replied honestly.

Kirk considered this and nodded. He didn't like the idea of McCoy's threat, although it was probably idle. "Right. In that case; no I don't think it'll work, but it's the only chance we have."

"What about asking Spock to mind meld with the guard from in here to make them think we've escaped?"

Spock shook his head. "I am a touch telepath."

"Don't you have any other Vulcan voodoo up your sleeve?" McCoy asked in desperation.

"They would not work in any case. Even if we managed to escape from this cell, we would be stopped by numerous guards surrounding the perimeter."

Kirk did a double take. "Wait... so you _have_ got other Vulcan powers?"

"I do not wish to discuss my abilities."

"Can't we try it?" McCoy asked. "It sounds a hell of a lot better than jumping out a window!"

"Bones, we'd be flying, not jumping." McCoy glared at him and Kirk had to admit that that last comment had probably not helped. "You have to trust me."

McCoy continued to look sceptical, but Spock appeared to be considering the idea. "We may be able to use the honeycombs to glue the feathers together."

"What?" McCoy squawked, staring at both of them. "I don't believe this! Are you both _nuts_?!"

"Hopefully not," Kirk grinned.

"Doctor, you appear to be using that line of vocabulary with increasing frequency."

"I have a good reason! Spock, you can't seriously think that this will work!"

"It does contradict all known laws of physics," Spock agreed. "However, the Captain's solutions have proved to be productive, if somewhat unorthodox."

"Thanks... I think," Kirk grinned.

McCoy seemed to be getting even more concerned for their mental well beings. "Both of you are missing the point. It's impossible! Humanoids _can't fly_!"

"Then logically it should not work."

"But we're going to try it anyway."

McCoy was looking increasingly confused, mainly due to Spock's contradictory statements. "I can't believe this is happening! You'd both be willing to jump out a window that's high enough to kill you if you get it wrong... with _feathers_?! What about the simple logic of gravity?"

"As you are so fond of saying Doctor, it is unimportant."

McCoy goggled at him, his jaw moving up and down minutely. "You didn't just denounce logic did you? What's the universe coming to?"

"Are you going to help us or not Bones? I'd love to stand here arguing all day, but we have to get moving."

"Do I have a choice?" McCoy growled. "You'll go ahead and do it anyway, so I might as well come with you to save your sorry necks if we _do_ survive."

Kirk grinned at the scowling physician. "Ok then. You and Spock get the wax and I'll collect the feathers."

Grumbling, McCoy stood on Spock's shoulders and grabbed the deserted honeycombs. "I can't believe you convinced me to do this."

Spock helped McCoy back to the ground and examined the wax. "This will be sufficient."

McCoy shook his head as he watched them assemble the wings carefully. "This won't work."

For about an hour they continued to mould, ignoring the doctor's continued protests and worried mutterings.

Finally, Kirk held the wings up. "Well, what do you think?"

McCoy eyed them with an unidentifiable expression. "You already know what I think."

Kirk placed them on the ground again. "Do you have a better plan?"

"Yes," McCoy replied acidly. "I was thinking of making a hot air balloon with my uniform shirt."

"I thought so." Kirk strapped on his wings and gave them a brief experimental flap.

"Oh Lord..." McCoy moaned miserably.

"They fit," Kirk announced cheerfully, fully aware of how ridiculous he looked.

"Then we have nothing to worry about," McCoy drawled.

"I believe that the most suitable time to attempt our flight would be after sunset." Spock said, eyebrows raising as he realised how ridiculous that sounded coming out of his mouth.

"So we'll avoid our wings melting and plunging into the ocean." Somehow Kirk managed to get through the sentence with a serious expression on his face and without laughing.

Spock considered him for a moment. "I was considering the probability of being observed, not the likelihood of melting wax."

Kirk blushed in embarrassment, which was not something he did often. "We still have about five hours," he coughed, failing to bring any sense of normality back into the conversation.

McCoy cleared his throat. "So assuming that we don't plunge to our deaths, which way are we supposed to... travel?" He refused to even mention flying.

"West," Kirk answered automatically, beating Spock to the punch. "According to myth."

"Right," McCoy drawled, feeling completely lost in this whole situation.

The door suddenly slammed open and three guards stalked in. "You," one of them growled, pointing at Spock, "come with us."

Glancing back at his two companions, Spock had no choice but to accompany them.


	3. Chapter 3

King Minos lounged in his thrown as his advisers and some of the richest men in all of Crete stood before him. All of them looked nervous of the great King, and so they should, for he could have them executed at the click of his fingers.

"I have captured three sky demons," he told his audience, and was met with an awed silence. "My interrogator reports that they were sent by enemies of Zeus himself."

"Zeus?!" Stammered one of the men in awe. "How did they escape from his imprisonment?"

The King's gaze bored into the man's eyes. "I hoped you could tell me that."

The man gulped audibly and fiddled with his hands nervously. "Perhaps they are hideaways who managed to avoid the mighty Gods through luck."

Minos considered this. "Perhaps." The man relaxed at the King's apparent approval. "Tell me, Daedalus, would your maze hold them?"

Daedalus shifted nervously under the scrutiny. "If they are in human shells... yes it should. But if they are immortal..." he wisely left the sentence hanging in the air between them.

"The leader was hurt during questioning. This makes them mortal," Minos stated. There was a general murmur of consent. "Very well, I will test this theory." He snapped his fingers and said to the man who came forwards, "bring me the man with the pointed ears."

He turned back to the small crowd. "What do you suggest I do with the others?"

"If it pleases you, my King, perhaps you could make an example of them."

"Go on..." Minos prompted.

"Once the subjects see that you have captured powerful enemies of Zeus, you will be followed into battle even more willingly than before."

Minos nodded, enchanted by the idea. "Such a thing would never be forgotten."

"Sire," another man spoke, "you could arrange for people to see them executed, and pay for the privilege."

The King's eyes became undeniably greedy. "Yes... Or I could hold a fight between them. The winner will get thrown into the maze and spectators can wager on how long he'll last."

The men all nodded in approval. "You have the greatest ideas, O King."

"I know." The guards came into the room with Spock in between them. "Ah, here the barbarian is. What do you think of him?"

The men all talked as though he was a zoo specimen. "Demonic eyes and ears."

"The very spawn of the Underworld."

"An evil face... obviously involved in a plot against your thrown."

"Will he defeat the minotaur?" Minos asked of Daedalus.

"He should be no match for it."

"Throw him in," Minos ordered.

The guards on either side of Spock grabbed him by the arms and tried towing him towards the main entrance, which was set nearby so that Minos' enemies could be intimidated by it whenever they visited and saw it in plain view.

Spock struggled fiercely as he drew closer, but the strength of the guards was too great even for a Vulcan to match. Everyone in the room watched as Spock was led through the door, and then turned to stand on an elevated viewing area.

Abruptly enveloped in the thick shadows of the maze, Spock's acute Vulcan hearing picked out the sound of a beast moving steadily closer. He briefly considered the door but logic told him that it was likely to be locked. He drew a breath and turned to walk towards the noise. Perhaps the idea was that he was to get past the Minotaur in order to find a door on the other end. He seemed to recall a different story; of defeating the Minotaur and then persuading a guard to open the door, but his knowledge of human myths was not extensive and he could not rely on this. There was only one way to find out, and he must fight if he were to live.

Before he was fully prepared, he rounded a corner and came face to face with the Minotaur. Despite the circumstances, he could not help but be fascinated by the mixture of creatures that it represented. He had never seen anything like it before in his life.

There was very little time for observation. The Minotaur advanced upon him slowly and Spock could hear the crowd cheering for blood.

"Meat," the creature growled. "Different smell," it sniffed.

Taken aback by the unexpected speech, Spock was thrown off balance when the creature lunged at him. He backtracked just in time but did not avoid fully the bite on his shoulder.

He cried out in pain and staggered, allowing the creature time to strike again. This time the cut was deep and green blood spurted from the wound.

"Green blood..." it growled in confusion, retreating slightly.

Seizing his chance, Spock flew at it and tried a neck pinch, which failed dramatically. Unaffected, the creature batted him aside easily and he slammed into a nearby wall. Dazed, he struggled to his feet and just managed to dodge the Minotaur's next advance, and the creature slammed into the wall just as Spock had done, unable to stop itself.

Already exhausted from blood loss, it was now a constant struggle to remain on his feet. The monster advanced quickly and he retreated, unable to do anything else. His back hit the hard and solid door, and he crashed to a reluctant halt. The Minotaur advanced on him slowly, sure of its triumph.

He could no longer hear the joyous yelling from the crowd as he slumped to his knees.

Minos watched the attack with savage glee. The beast sank its teeth into the demon's flesh, apparently preferring its meat alive today. It pleased him when that happened.

The demon screamed and struggled weakly, and Minos reluctantly signalled the guard to throw the Minotaur's favourite meat over the maze wall. While the creature was distracted, the door was opened and the demon dragged out, blood trailing behind.

"Take him to a healer," Minos commanded. "I want him ready to fight for bets. It should prove entertaining for the people of Crete." He turned to his audience and smiled. "So we have seen that they cannot beat the Minotaur."

Spock hung limply from his captor's arms as they carried him to a healer. They dumped him on a table in front of a bemused looking man. "King Minos has ordered that he be treated."

"I don't know if I can- I haven't seen anything like it before." He referred to Spock as an animal.

"You will obey King Minos or be punished." The guard stomped out.

Muttering incoherently the man raced around the small room, tending to Spock's wounds. While the Vulcan lay on the table groaning in pain, the healer mixed various liquids and finally presented it to his patient.

"Drink," he ordered loudly, unsure whether Spock would understand him.

A weak, shaky hand tried to reach the cup but fell limply back onto the table. Hurriedly, the healer lifted him into a half sitting position and held the cup to his lips.

"What is it?" Spock rasped.

"It's your only hope. Drink it or you will surely die."

Obediently, Spock drank. The liquid was fiery and seemed to burn its way into his stomach. From there, it moved towards his wounds and the bleeding stopped. He stared at the doctor in faint astonishment. The man summoned two guards who supported Spock on their shoulders and helped him back to the cell. Already he felt stronger although he could not stand without assistance.

They deposited him on the floor of his cell and slammed the door shut. Instantly, McCoy was next to him and checking his wounds. "What happened?"

"I was forced into the maze."

"You fought the Minotaur?" Kirk asked in incredulity. Spock nodded. "Did you win?"

"Negative. The King decided to... preserve me for a later date."

"Jim," McCoy whispered, "take a look at this." He indicated Spock's wounds. "They're already half healed."

"What did they give you?" Kirk asked.

"A mixture of several different liquids."

The doctor looked surprised. "Sounds like a potion."

"Indeed, it may be exactly as you describe Doctor."

"I thought you didn't believe in witch doctors," McCoy reminded him.

"On this planet it may not be impossible."

"Do you think you'll be strong enough to escape at dark?" Kirk asked anxiously.

"I believe so Captain."

"How long have we got left Jim?"

Kirk looked out the window and judged the position of the sun in the sky. "Not long."

Hearing how little time they had left, Spock tried to lift himself off the floor. "Spock, stay still," McCoy ordered.

"There is no need. I am sufficiently recovered."

McCoy checked the wounds sceptically before looking up in shock. "Well I'll be damned!"

"What?" Kirk demanded.

"There's nothing there. Not even a scratch."

"Fascinating."

"Jim," McCoy said seriously, "if we can, I'd like to get a sample of that medicine at some point."


	4. Chapter 4

Just after dark McCoy stood next to the glassless window in their cell and breathed deeply. Just don't look down, he kept telling himself. "Who goes first?" There was silence. "All together then?"

"Doctor, this is insufficient area for us to attempt simultaneously."

"It was just a thought." McCoy shivered as he looked into the dark abyss where he knew the ground to be. "We have to go soon."

Finally, Kirk stepped forwards and braced himself for what he was about to do. He looked like he'd prefer to run at a herd of crazed wildebeest than jump out of a window with feathers. Before he could persuade himself not to, he jumped.

He did not come back up.

McCoy leaned over the ledge to see where Kirk had fallen, but came face to face with his Captain, who was flapping his arms frantically. "Jesus Jim!" He exclaimed, his heart thumping in his ribs at the recent scare that his friend had just put him through.

"This is incredible," Kirk all but shouted with the same daredevil enthusiasm he showed when he tried impossible stunts.

"Fascinating."

McCoy rounded on the Vulcan next to him. "He's suspended in the air with a bunch of feathers, defying _all_ the laws of physics, and all _you _have to say is 'fascinating'?"

"I could not think of any other descriptive words worthy of expressing the uniqueness of this situation."

"We're running out of time," Kirk hissed. "Hurry up!"

Spock quickly jumped off the ledge and hovered near the captain. "Highly illogical," he murmured as he flapped his arms. McCoy dithered.

"Come one Bones."

Grumbling, McCoy approached the ledge and stood on it, trying hard not to feel like a man who was going to the gallows. He jumped and swore loudly. A man below looked up.

"Oh, fantastic Bones," Kirk said sarcastically. "Remind me to teach you stealth." He seemed to have forgotten the noise he made earlier when he had first jumped.

"Well he can't see us," McCoy hissed back. "It's dark."

"Actually," Spock butted in, "it would appear that we have drifted into a lit area provided by a nearby window. We are very much visible."

McCoy sighed. "Well, I guess the secret of our escape is out."

"We need to fly west," Kirk reminded them.

"_Where_ is west? We can't see Jim!"

"Towards that silhouetted building," Kirk clarified.

McCoy rolled his eyes. "Which one?"

"I believe that the Captain means this direction." Spock's voice became faint as he began fluttering away. Kirk, giggling slightly at the absurdity of their situation, followed him.

Staring in stupefied wonder at the image before him, McCoy eventually followed. Below them, Daedalus watched their progress, completely unaware that his later attempt to escape in the same way would lead to his son plunging into an early and watery grave.

"Don't go too high up," Kirk ordered.

"How can I possibly forget," McCoy drawled, "when I've been trained for this?"

"I fail to understand your need to utter falsehoods."

"It's so that I won't get distracted and fly into a stray pterodactyl while we're up here."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Fascinating."

"Do you think the wings will actually melt if we go too high up?" McCoy asked.

"Probably," Kirk replied helpfully.

"How high is too high?"

"Where you are now," Kirk said as he looked up at the doctor.

"How do I get down?" McCoy hissed.

"Do not flap your arms," Spock answered, deadpan.

McCoy gave him a flat look. "If I do that I'll fall and die."

"Move your arms at a slower rate," Spock explained, unfazed by the doctor's attitude.

McCoy slowed the frantic movement of his arms and gradually found himself joining the other two officers in their low position in the sky. He felt as light as a feather, and the butterflies in his stomach had subsided a little.

Suddenly the smoother darkness of land was replaced by the jagged depths of the sea. Kirk coughed as he flew into a wave which the other two narrowly avoided. "I think we need a bit more height," the Captain choked as water streamed out of his hair.

They rose a bit higher in the sky, so that they were barely skimming the enormous waves that tried to claw at them.

"There is an object ahead," Spock suddenly announced.

"Is it land?" McCoy asked hopefully.

"Negative. It appears to be a ship."

"Is it coming our way?"

"It appears so, Captain."

Sure enough out of the darkness came a large Greek warship on its way back to its home harbour after a long voyage at sea. It was a hulking mass of wood tossed about by the vengeful sea, and it was coming straight at them. Keeping low so as not to be seen, they veered to the left and kept in a line, allowing the ship and its sailors to make its way past. Luckily, no one saw them.

McCoy puffed and panted as he fought to stay airborne for the next hour as they glided over huge crashing waves and avoided other boats. Suddenly, he saw something bright.

"On the horizon," he gasped breathlessly, unable to say more.

A blob of light had appeared at one side of the horizon and began to make its way across the heavens. Behind it, light lingered and the stars winked suddenly out of sight.

Kirk squinted at it. "Is that a _chariot_?" He looked vaguely confused and amazed all at the same time- a difficult thing to achieve. "You don't see many of those," he mused.

"Helios."

McCoy turned to Spock in confusion. "What's Helios?"

"The ancient Greeks believed that a chariot driven by the sun God Helios brought the beginning of daylight hours."

"What, you know that and yet you forgot about the maze?" Kirk asked in amusement.

"I can see land!" McCoy whooped.

"Sicily," Spock corrected, ever precise and accurate, even in the most bizarre situations.

"Jim, we'll be seen!" McCoy hissed as Kirk flew towards the land, not even attempting to hide, with Spock and McCoy following in his wake.

If Kirk could have shrugged, he probably would have done, but as it was the feathers impeded his actions. "Too late; they've probably seen us now."

As they neared, they heard the loud shouting of villagers who had gathered on the shore to watch them in amazement. "Great," McCoy groaned. "More people who'll think we're demons."

"Doctor, may I remind you that we are wearing feathers and are travelling by flight? To my knowledge, that is not the behaviour of demons."

"He has a point, Bones," Kirk chipped in.

"Knowing our luck, they'll change their minds about that just before we arrive," McCoy complained, but then a thought occurred to him. "How do we land?"

"Wing it," Kirk smirked.

"Very funny Jim." McCoy muttered, rolling his eyes at the latest pun.

"It appears," Spock observed, ignoring their joke related argument, "that there is a noticeable lack in space for landing."

"We're doomed," McCoy groaned, "to fly aimlessly without landing for all eternity."

"That would be impossible Doctor."

"Spock, I'm surprised you can still define possible after this," Kirk chuckled, indicating the feathers with his chin.

"I see a place to land!" McCoy interrupted with relief.

They all aimed for the small clearing that had just been spotted, and were relieved to feel the ground beneath their feet once more. Miraculously, they landed perfectly.

A crowd member stepped forwards nervously. "Who are you?"

Kirk answered the question warily, unable to remember any suitable Greek names that he could use. "I'm... James." He looked for a reaction and found none, other than curiosity. "This is Leonard, and that is Spock."

"I have never heard names like yours before," the man replied.

"Yeah..." Kirk hedged, floundering for a moment. Diplomacy was not his strong point. "They're not very common."

The man nodded in understanding, to their immense relief. "Come, you can have some refreshments after your journey."

"That's very generous of you."

The man smiled at them and began weaving his way through the crowd, urging the three officers to follow. As they did, they passed a young boy who broke free from his mother's unresisting grasp and bounded over to Kirk.

"You flew here," he stated.

"We sure did," Kirk replied, barely able to believe it himself.

The boy looked at each of them in turn, his gaze lingering on Spock. "Where'd you get those ears?"

The Vulcan looked taken aback by the question. "I was born with them."

"Can I touch them?" Spock hesitated, but everybody urged him on. Quelling the desire to sigh in resignation, he bent down and allowed the boy to touch the tips. "They feel real."

His lips twisted slightly at the boy's expression as he straightened up again. "Indeed."

Their guide turned around to face the young child. "Silenus, go back to your mother. The strangers need rest after their journey."

"I'll say," McCoy murmured under his breath as he flexed his extremely sore arms.

The child sighed and waved goodbye as he re-entered the crowd. The man guided them to a small and modern house by the standards of that era. They sat down gratefully and the man brought a small tray of food.

"I hope you enjoy this simple meal."

"I'm sure we will," Kirk replied sincerely. "Thank you."

"You didn't mention your name," McCoy reminded the stranger.

"I am Geryon." As he spoke, a woman came through and stood beside him. "This is my wife, Melissa."

Melissa nodded shyly and they all nodded back in greeting. She left the room to tend to the family livestock. Geryon shifted awkwardly for a moment. "Where did you come from? Was it that cursed maze of King Minos?"

"Yes," Kirk replied.

"Then we are truly honoured to have you in our humble village. Not many return."

"Not many return?" Kirk repeated questioningly.

Geryon shook his head sadly. "Those who offend the King by not paying tax pay the price. Two years ago the village could not pay the full amount and the King's fleet took many of our children. My son, Epithemus, was one of them."

"I'm sorry for your loss," McCoy replied sombrely.

"The man nodded sadly. "Other things happen. Strange things."

"What strange things?" Kirk asked.

"Sometimes people disappear and never return. Always it is those who venture too far away from the village."

"Do you have any theories?" Spock questioned.

"Some, but we can't be sure. One of the most likely is that they are dragged to the Underworld to perform a service to Hades. If that is the case, they can never return." Quiet reigned for a while before Geryon stood once more. "I will allow you time to rest." He went to help his wife.

McCoy was still mulling the thoughts over in his head. "Disappearances..."

"It could be anything."

"I believe," Spock began, "that we will have a considerable amount of time to investigate."

Kirk shook his head. "We could change history, and Star Fleet is wary of us enough already without us coming back after changing ancient Greece."

"We probably already have by flying here."

"Doctor McCoy is correct, Captain. Current data also suggests that we are not in fact on Earth despite appearances. Our journey here should have been impossible."

"Again with the 'impossible' thing," McCoy muttered.

"Alright," Kirk agreed. "If this is another planet, we can't interfere because of the Prime Directive. "Although," he added, a sly glint appearing in his eyes, "it would be nice to be seen as an angel here."

"We can't just abandon people to their fate!" McCoy blustered.

"I know Bones, but we can't reveal who we are." He sighed and took a bite of food.

"Can't we help _without_ revealing who we are?"

Kirk considered this and shrugged. "We could give it a shot." He turned to his first officer. "Spock, any theories on how we got here?"

"The most logical explanation is that we drifted off course during the ion storm. However, this planet does not abide by the general laws of physics."

"So you're saying we're in a different dimension or universe?"

"It is possible Captain, but highly unlikely."

"The main question is how to get back."

"Quite correct Doctor. However at this present time I have no solution to this problem."

McCoy sighed. "Even if there was an answer, the shuttle's still in Crete. We'd have to risk going back to Minos."

"Which would be pointless since the shuttle's destroyed," Kirk reminded them.

"What if we can't find an escape?" McCoy asked.

Kirk slapped his shoulder and took another bite of food. "Then we adapt to the life of angels as the villagers see us."


	5. Chapter 5

King Minos lounged in his throne, a self satisfied smirk hovering on his lips. He looked around the room at all the golden possessions on display and the rich materials that he wore. Tax, he found, paid well. It paid very well. He loved using money to buy things- he enjoyed showing off the wealth of his empire to anyone who visited. He often noticed that many visitors were intimidated by the obvious power he held, and he wasn't afraid to use this to his full advantage.

All meetings with foreigners were held in his most spectacular rooms, and he handpicked the most dangerous looking guards to watch over them. To his clients, it represented the army, and many a time he had used this to ruin any idea of war. He wanted them to know how powerful the Greek army was.

Likewise, he made sure that his citizens knew the same. They were constantly reminded that the army enforced his laws, and that anyone who dared defy him would perish. He was feared, and it suited him. The locals were afraid to stand up to him or rebel, and were forced to join the army in times of peril to avoid their families being punished. The system was perfect. All was perfect.

Occasionally he would ride through his kingdom to witness for himself the progress being made, and was always satisfied by what he saw. The locals made sure of it. If workers were lazy or incompetent, they were replaced by someone more skilled at the profession. Progress could not afford any setbacks.

In a few hours time, he would be heralded as a conqueror, when his naval ships returned. A message had been sent ahead claiming that new lands had been looted and that he would soon enjoy the spoils of battle. Of course, he never actually went on these missions himself for he knew how dangerous they were. He valued his life and thought it was useless to risk it when he had people at his disposal to do it for him. Someone had to rule and who would do it if he perished on some outlandish voyage?

No, he was too sensible to leave.

He smiled, lost in a sea of thoughts about conquest and honour. A new crown upon his head to match that which he already had, and more loyal subjects bowing at his feet. People who would treat him like a God.

Perhaps if he achieved this he would finally have his names engraved in the night sky among other great rulers. He awaited the day with relish.

A man came in and bowed low. "The spectators have arrived, O King."

"Have they paid?"

"Yes," the man replied, his voice muffled by the floor. "Most generously."

"Then bring them in."

The man hurried back out of the room and soon arrived with rich looking philosophers and scholars, presumably here to witness this supernatural event for themselves. All of these great minds bowed low to him.

"Welcome," he spread his arms wide and smiled, hoping that he looked genuinely pleased to see them, rather than their money. "Make your way to the spectator stand."

Eagerly the crowd moved forwards gazing about them at the large room in keen interest. Their eyes radiated jealousy and he grinned in amusement, deliberately allowing his arm to form an elaborate gesture in order to show off the material he wore. "Bring the three prisoners."

"Yes, O King." With a bow, a servant hurried away.

He gestured around them. "Make yourself at home in my humble palace."

The men bowed in thanks and remained to look awkwardly around them, seemingly terrified of breaking something and bringing Minos' legendary wrath upon themselves. A few looked nervously at the maze, as though they fully expected to be thrown in themselves as entertainment. He briefly considered the idea and then decided against it. If they behaved, they would remain unharmed.

"I see you are fascinated by the maze."

One timid looking man jumped slightly in surprise. Everyone pretended not to notice. "Yes, my King."

"It is wonderful. I had Daedalus design it to help keep the Minotaur inside."

"He did excellently, my King."

"Yes," Minos replied thoughtfully. "I employ only the best."

"You are wise, my King," an old man rasped. "Slaves are not as qualified as those for hire."

"I find them to be a good source of cheap labour," Minos countered.

The spineless and flattering men agreed with him unconditionally. He was unsure of their true opinions, but that was of little importance. If it contradicted his own beliefs then he did not want to hear.

A guard hurried in breathlessly. "Wise King, the prisoners are gone."

"Gone?!" Minos thundered.

The guard wince but otherwise tried to keep up a brave front. He did not entirely succeed.

"Who was the fool in charge?"

The guard gulped, his facade crumbling slightly. "I... I was, my King."

Minos' eyes flashed with anger. "You will be punished for your incompetence." He clicked his fingers and motioned for the guard's companions to hold him. He turned back to his guests. "You will still have your entertainment." He drew himself up with undeniable authority. "Throw him in!"

The guard screamed for mercy for himself and his children, but Minos turned a deaf ear to the protests. The children becoming orphans was of no concern to him. Discipline must be maintained, and the guard would pay for tarnishing the greatness of the King with his pitiful failure.

When the man's screams had died down, Minos spoke once more. "Search for them and bring the doctor in for questioning."

One of the guards who had been standing sentry outside the room and who was close to the doctor left his post in a quiet and urgent search for his friend.

Eventually, he found him in his quarters below the palace. "Aegeus, you are in danger."

"What happened?"

"King Minos wishes to punish you."

Aegeus looked rightfully bewildered. "I have done nothing!"

"You were one of the last to see the prisoners. He thinks you helped them escape. You must leave now, for Sicily, before it's too late. You'll be safer there."

The doctor nodded in bewilderment as he gathered his belongings and a few mixtures together. "Thank you, my friend."

The guard nodded once and retreated through the door, running back to his post before he was missed.

oOo

_Don't forget to tell me what you think, and any suggestions on mythical creatures you would like to see will be gratefully appreciated!_


	6. Chapter 6

Groaning in slight discomfort at having spent the night on a hard surface, McCoy cracked open one eye to see Spock already sitting at a table and talking with their hosts. Kirk still lay sprawled all over the place, mouth hanging open slightly. Reluctantly, he forced himself into complete wakefulness and pushed himself to his feet.

"How can you wake up so early?" He complained to Spock. "You're like a damn bird."

As expected, the eyebrows shot up. "I bear no resemblance to a bird doctor. As for the remark about it being early, you are incorrect. It is in fact mid day."

"Mid day?" McCoy repeated in astonishment. "That flight must have been more draining than I thought."

"Indeed. It did appear to have a considerable effect on human energy levels."

"If I didn't know better I'd say you sound smug," McCoy scowled, even as he pulled a plate of food closer to himself and began devouring it hungrily.

"Fortunately you are not prone to such erroneous beliefs."

There was a bleary rustling behind them and Kirk finally surfaced. "Mornin'," he mumbled, still very much half asleep.

"I have prepared some lunch," Melissa announced shyly, directing Kirk's gaze to the table.

Stopping to give her the briefest nod of thanks, Kirk immediately fell upon devouring the food, grabbing everything within reach. Spock subtly shifted away from his captain, eyebrows raised.

"Slow down Jim; you'll give yourself indigestion."

Kirk glanced up briefly. "You can't do anything about that Bones," he replied, his words muffled by food. "You have no hypos."

"No, but you're _not_ throwing up all over my boots like the last time."

"Relax Bones, that won't happen."

"That's what you said last time," McCoy growled.

Kirk held his hands up in defeat. "All right, I'll slow down. Happy?"

McCoy nodded. "Now I know my boots are safe; yes."

Silence reigned for a few moments as their hosts allowed them to eat. Finally, Melissa spoke as she began piling up the wooden plates. "I hear my husband told you about the disappearances."

"Melissa, not now," Geryon murmured. "Give them a chance to eat."

"It's alright," Kirk said. "We don't mind." He swallowed the last of his drink and sat back. "We were just about to make a plan of action."

"Jim, I thought you said... ow," McCoy interrupted himself as Kirk kicked him gently under the table.

Melissa and Geryon beamed. "Wonderful!"

"So uh..." Kirk began, trying to ignore the surprised look that McCoy was giving him. "How do we get back to the maze without getting caught?"

"I have a small ship," Geryon offered. "I will take you." He caught McCoy's look and completely misinterpreted it. "We had a means of getting them back, but not the bravery. Now that we have you three..." It was clear he still thought they were angels of some sort.

"Then after that, maybe we could tackle the disappearances of people who leave town," Kirk offered.

McCoy's mouth gaped. "Jim!" He hissed as Geryon and Melissa talked enthusiastically amongst themselves, "are you planning on going home any time soon?"

"Just how are we supposed to do that without a shuttle?" Kirk countered.

"So you're taking us on a wild goose chase instead?"

"Doctor, if I remember correctly, you were in favour of doing that which the Captain is even now proposing."

"Yeah- and he was against it!" McCoy retorted. "I've just had a chance to sleep on it and let sanity sink in! We _can't_ do this by ourselves. With the adrenalin of yesterday we might have thought so... but it _isn't_ possible."

"Apparently, so is feathered flight," Spock replied dryly.

"Spock, you surprise me. I thought you'd be helping me defend logic." McCoy complained.

"Logic of the conventional sense appears to have a minor role in the governing of this planet."

Before McCoy could even think up a reply to that, Geryon broke back into the conversation. "We can leave today after this meal."

"How long will it take to get there?" Kirk asked.

"We should get there in a few days."

"So," McCoy attempted to keep his voice light, "is there any possibility of weapons to help us in our rescue?"

Geryon nodded and pointed to the corner of the room. "I have some spears over there. I use them to hunt sometimes."

"Any... shields?" McCoy asked tentatively.

Geryon shook his head. "We'll have to take our chances."

"_Wonderful_," McCoy muttered.

Kirk walked over to the corner without any ado and picked up the spears. "All set?" He asked the room at large.

Geryon grinned at him and led the way out the door, Kirk, Spock and McCoy following behind. McCoy tapped Kirk on the arm and hung back a few paces, lowering his voice so as not to be heard by their host. "Jim I hope you know what you're doing."

This time, there was no jovial thump on the arm and cocky grin. "I hope so too, Bones." Staring in shock, McCoy could only stand still as his friend walked towards the ship.


	7. Chapter 7

Frothy waves crashed over the wooden boat, making it rock perilously. Rain whipped the sails and caused the boat to move in no apparent direction, lost in a whirlpool of ocean. Rain lashed through the sky and plastered itself to the occupants of the boat, who were struggling across the deck in an effort to keep it steady.

Clamping his mouth shut to prevent his nausea from surfacing, McCoy doggedly ploughed through the wind which was surrounding him and refused to leave any part of him untouched. He was cold to the bone, unused to sea travel even at the best of times, and exhausted from the constant storm that had plagued them ever since the morning of what was supposed to be their last day of sailing. His only consolation was that while they had no specific direction, the wind was pushing them in the general direction of their destination. Exactly how accurate that direction proved to be remained to be discovered.

Looking extremely out of place, Spock stumbled past, hand raised to keep the merciless rain out of his desert bred eyes. Soaked to the skin and shivering uncontrollably, he looked like a drowned rat. McCoy couldn't help but feel a sense of pity for the Vulcan as he saw the First Officer slip on the wet surface and skid several feet, landing nearby to Kirk.

Kirk, who actually looked as though he was _enjoying_ the ordeal, stooped down and helped his friend to his feet again, smiling in amusement. McCoy scowled in jealousy at the Captain's enviably sure posture and natural sea faring ability. He was a man that seemed to be annoyingly good at everything, and determined to prove it.

Geryon stood at his usual post, steering the ship as much as he possibly could in these conditions, unconcerned with the wind that howled around him. Dripping wet, although he appeared not to notice, he stood rooted to the spot, eyes fixed in determination into the fog.

Lurching over to his fellow officers, McCoy stumbled and crashed into the side of the ship, almost falling overboard when the deck beneath him dipped unexpectedly. Flailing in panic, he felt himself swaying towards the cold, clammy depths of the swirling ocean beneath him, and the only thing that saved him was two hands tugging on his clothing. The boat lurched once again and he suddenly found himself sprawled over his saviour.

Picking himself up in embarrassment, he pretended to dust down his Greek clothes (they had been provided with these by Geryon, so that they would look as inconspicuous as possible). Finally, unable to avoid it any longer, he looked up to see who he had landed on after they had just (very nicely) saved his life.

Staring back at him was the grinning face of Jim Kirk. "Thanks."

Kirk stretched and mock-winced. "You're welcome..." he winced again and rubbed his back where he had come into contact with the hard wooden surface. "I think."

McCoy glowered at him. "I wouldn't have fallen on you if you hadn't _yanked_ me so damn hard!"

Kirk shrugged. "It was either that you letting you go overboard."

"It was bound to happen sooner or later."

"Stop being such a pessimist Bones! We'll get there safely; I trust Geryon."

McCoy sighed in resignation. "I do too, Jim. I just don't trust this _planet_." He eyed an upcoming wave with malice as it threatened to come over the side of the boat.

"Lighten up! It's an adventure."

McCoy groaned. "If by adventure you mean 'quest to get ourselves killed' then it sure is." Kirk continued to grin and McCoy looked over in Spock's general direction to employ the Vulcan's help. "Hey Spock, explain to Jim that this is _not_ an amusement par..." he trailed off as he caught sight of the Vulcan.

Spock was lying on his side on the soaking wet floor, unmoving as the waves continued to crash over the side of the boat and drench him. Running over and sliding to a halt by his side, McCoy saw that the Vulcan was intensely pale and clutching his stomach, presumably in an attempt to keep from being sea sick.

"Uh oh..." Kirk muttered upon catching sight of his First Officer, just before the man in question vomited gloriously all over the deck. Kirk jumped back almost imperceptibly and side stepped the mess until he was standing on a clean piece of deck on Spock's other side.

The Vulcan groaned almost inaudibly and shivered. Concerned, McCoy put a hand to the man's forehead. "He's alright Jim; no fever. It's probably just seasickness." The First Officer eyed McCoy warily. The Doctor caught the look and smiled slightly in good humour, unable to stop himself. "Don't worry, I keep the hypos for Jim. I haven't got any anyway."

"That is... a relief, Doctor." The Vulcan began to clamber shakily back to his feet, but collapsed back to the deck when the ship pitched once again. Closing his eyes once more, he seemed even paler than before he had moved.

"Just stay still," Kirk advised helpfully.

"I had determined that that course of action was wise, Captain."

McCoy grinned once more, despite himself. The hobgoblin was getting better at this arguing lark, he decided. "How much longer do you think we have left on the boat, Jim?"

"No idea."

"Very helpful," he replied wryly. He turned back to Spock in concern. "I should have known this would be more difficult for you."

"Vulcan does..." Spock trailed off, reconsidering his use of tense. Even after all this time, he was still unable to completely accept Vulcan's destruction. "_Did_... lack the opportunity for sailing. I am... unacquainted with it."

"You'll love it once you get used to it," Kirk assured him.

A weary eyebrow rose. "I do not consider that possibility to be likely."

Through the merciless wind, a loud yet distinctive voice could just be heard. "Land!"

Kirk immediately stood up in excitement, leaving a less than enthusiastic Spock on the ground next to a still concerned McCoy. "We're back!"

McCoy rolled his eyes. "Fantastic. Into the maze of death we go."

oOo

Some hours later, Kirk, Spock, McCoy and Geryon stood at the perimeter line of King Minos' castle. Guards paced at frequent intervals, and there was no discernible way to enter dressed as they were. Only the rich appeared to be welcome.

"Well," McCoy concluded. "We're not getting in."

Kirk shook his head defiantly. "We'll get in somehow." He turned to his First Officer. "Any suggestions?"

"The only logical conclusion would be to parade as rich merchants or talented craftsmen."

"And how do you suggest we do that?" McCoy scoffed.

"We steal some clothes," Geryon replied. Kirk, who had opened his mouth to suggest that very same thing, looked down in some disappointment.

Eyebrows raised, Spock turned to follow Geryon as he made his way to a group of three rich looking men. Kirk and McCoy followed warily in his wake, ready to follow the native's lead. Geryon quickly engaged the men in conversation, talking animatedly in a language that none of the officers recognised. After a short while, the men entered a house nearby, and Geryon, eyes twinkling, beckoned for the officers to follow.

Once inside, Geryon attacked the man closest to him, and the others followed suit. A short fistfight followed, cut down by the fact that three of the participants had been trained in a Star Fleet martial arts course, while the others had not.

Looking down at the three unconscious men, Kirk put his hands on his hips. "Well that was easy. Who wants to wear what?"

McCoy briefly considered the choices and began stripping a man who was around his size. Geryon and Kirk followed suit, leaving Spock standing in the doorway with (for a Vulcan) a slightly miffed expression.

"Am I not to have a disguise?"

"Nope," Kirk replied. "We need you as you are." The eyebrows elevated further.

Finally finished dressing, Kirk gathered the group into a circle and whispered conspiratively. "Alright, here's the plan..."

Five minutes later, Geryon walked purposefully through the crowd and up to one of the guards who was pacing in front of the castle entrance. Kirk and McCoy followed closely behind, half carrying a dishevelled Spock between them. Stopping just in front of the guard, Geryon bowed respectfully, while the other two officers did the same. Spock kept his head lowered in submission.

"We have captured a sky devil," Geryon announced to the guard, who snapped to attention eerily.

"Show me," the guard replied in savage curiosity.

Geryon obediently stepped aside and allowed Kirk and McCoy to move forwards. The guard reached out and hesitantly poked one of Spock's ears. "Is it alive?"

"See for yourself," Geryon gestured to Spock.

McCoy quelled any reaction as he saw the guard land a solid punch to Spock's gut. The Vulcan groaned and twitched convincingly. Looking to his left, McCoy could see the muscles in Kirk's jaw tightening in anger, but apparently the guard had not noticed. However, neither of them acted. This needed to be convincing.

The guard stepped back in satisfaction. "He should be useful then." He summoned four of his comrades. He motioned two of them to take over from Kirk and McCoy. "Take that sky devil to the torture chamber. Await King Minos' orders." There was a shuffling as the officers reluctantly let go of the Vulcan and watched him being dragged away. "We will escort you to King Minos so that you can be rewarded."

With that, the guard turned smartly around and began marching into the grounds, while the other two guards marched behind the group of three apprehensive visitors. Once the entrance had been sealed and they were well out of sight or hearing range of anybody, they struck.

Kirk leaped forwards and grabbed the lead guard in a strangle hold. The man struggled but eventually sank to his knees as his air supply was abruptly cut off. Alarmed, the other two guards moved to help their comrade, but were stopped as both Geryon and McCoy sent them reeling into unconsciousness with solid punches. Kirk released the lead guard and grabbing him by the clothing, pinned him up against the wall.

"Where is the maze?" Fearfully, the guard pointed."Are the prisoners nearby?" The guard nodded and Kirk smiled cockily. "Thank you, you've been very helpful." He punched the guard in the jaw, who slid groaning down the wall to rest unconscious on the floor.

Revealing some rope that he had tucked underneath his robes, McCoy began tying the men together, whilst Geryon and Kirk kept a lookout. Seconds later, Spock joined them.

"How are the guards?" Kirk asked.

"Incapacitated as ordered," Spock replied quietly, wary of attracting undue attention to their position.

"Then let's go."

Taking care not to make more noise than necessary, the foursome skulked through the corridors of the enormous and lavishly decorated castle, searching for the maze. Spock took the lead, his sharp Vulcan eyes probing the darkness for any familiar sign of the area where he was forced to fight a Minotaur. Finally, after about five minutes of endlessly walking through corridors, he stopped.

McCoy almost walked into him. "Damn it Spock," he whispered angrily. "Give me some warning."

As expected, Spock ignored the jibe. "I believe that we have reached our destination."

"Where is it?" Kirk asked looking around. "There's nothing here."

Spock gave him a look of exaggerated patience and walked forwards, his expression conveying the order 'follow me'. Glancing around them, McCoy was surprised to note that there was no maze like structure around. Instead, they appeared to be in dungeons.

"I heard talking during my ordeal in the maze," Spock explained. "I deduced that this was the origin."

"Well Spock, you know what they say," Kirk grinned. "Follow your ears."

The expected dark eyebrow ascended to the far away regions of the hairline. "I believe that the phrase is 'follow your nose', Captain."

Kirk shrugged. "Nose, ears... what's the difference?" The second eyebrow joined its fellow in residence high up on the Vulcan's forehead.

Geryon shuffled impatiently. "Let's go. We don't know how long we have before guards come."

"He's right," Kirk replied, instantly sobered. "Let's move."

Springing into action, they crept forwards, keeping a wary look out for any sentries that may be posted nearby. They encountered one, who appeared to be asleep. Quietly, they walked past and up to the bars of a cell containing twenty children.

"This is them," Geryon announced excitedly.

A boy pushed through the gathering crowd and reached through the bars to touch Geryon's arm. "You came back!"

Geryon nodded. "We'll get you out of there son."

"Where are the keys?" McCoy whispered to the children. As one, they pointed. With a growing sense of trepidation, the foursome turned around and eyed the guard warily. The keys were tied to a length of string around his neck. "Fantastic," McCoy groaned.

Kirk moved to saunter over to the sentry, but was stopped by the hand of his First Officer.

Kirk gave a vague 'go ahead' motion with his hand and stepped back to watch. McCoy moved to guard the entrance to the dungeon area in case anyone decided to come that way. He kept one eye on the events that were unfolding.

Spock, steepling his hands, crept towards the sentry and lightly grasped the keys that dangled above the man's chest. Startled at the sudden lack of cold metal against his chest, the man woke abruptly and stared back at Spock with poorly disguised terror. He opened his mouth to call for help but was silenced by a well placed nerve pinch. Victorious, Spock walked back to the cell door and unlocked it.

Kirk watched with mild surprise. "Huh," he muttered. "I wish I could do that."

"Unfortunately Captain, it is not a skill that humans possess," Spock replied as he returned to his commanding officer's side.

"Pity- I could do with that ability. Who knows how many times I could have fended off Bones' hypos by now if I could do the nerve pinch."

Behind them, the children's voices rose as the nervous chatter, fuelled by the adrenalin of their escape, increased. Geryon frantically tried to quiet them even as McCoy signalled that the coast was clear. They had to move now.

Wincing at the amount of shuffling their joint footsteps made, they moved forwards as one unit, almost as though the entire thing had been rehearsed. They were only halfway to freedom when a cold voice stopped them in their tracks.

"Stop. Right. There." The pauses between the words only increased their sense of trepidation as they gradually turned to face their attacker. It was the guard from the front entrance. "You won't get away from me this time."

"Yeah?" Kirk replied cockily. "Just watch us."

The man raised his sword. "I will. In fact, I intend to watch you die."

"That won't happen." Kirk slowly inched towards the guard, who warily kept an eye on them. Unnoticed, Spock moved to the other side of the guard.

"I think it will."

Kirk laughed at him. "There are more of us than there are of you."

"I have the sword."

Spock seized his opportunity and nerve pinched the guard, catching him as he slumped to the floor. Grabbing the sword before it could clatter on the hard stone surface beneath their feet, Kirk smirked.

"Not any more."

oOo

They were heralded upon their return to Geryon's tiny village. People lined the shore, waving and cheering as they saw the boat draw closer, with their long lost children aboard. Likewise, children lined the deck, crying in relief at seeing the faces of their parents after who knew how many months, eyes squinting slightly due to being unaccustomed with sunlight. The very scene made McCoy glad that he had decided to listen to Kirk. Not that he had any choice, of course, but he preferred to tell himself he did it out of free will.

As they clambered off their transport and were showered with grateful hugs from relieved and emotional mothers, McCoy turned to Kirk and grinned from ear to ear. "I could really get used to this."

"So could I Bones." Kirk chuckled back even as he was smothered by yet another woman.

Spock looked vaguely uncomfortable as people pressed against him. Fathers pumped his hand in enthusiastic handshakes and clapped him on the shoulder, whilst the siblings of the missing children insisted upon wrapping themselves around his legs. The mothers clamoured around him as they did Kirk and McCoy, but for the most part he seemed to have gained the attention of the children. Most of whom were asking where he got his ears from.

McCoy snickered as the Vulcan patiently explained that his ears were real for the umpteenth time. "Spock doesn't look like he's enjoying this as much as we are."

"Well, he's getting better at being around children," Kirk commented dryly.

McCoy snorted. "Anything is a distinct improvement where dealing with children is concerned."

Through the crowd, a victorious and overjoyed looking Melissa rushed over to them, carrying a small jug of wine, which she gave to her husband. Beaming thankfully at Geryon, she threw her arms around her child and sobbed tears of relief into her son's shoulder at the sight of him after so many years.

Geryon turned back to the crowd and lifted his drink aloft, his face radiant. "Now that our children have returned, it is time to celebrate!"

An uproarious cheer greeted his words, and the three officers from the Enterprise immediately found themselves lost amidst what appeared to be swarms of Greeks who wanted to congratulate them on their rescue mission.

Kirk all but bounced over to his solemn looking first officer, a newly received cup of wine in his hand. Smiling, he thrust it into the Vulcan's grip and slapped the man's shoulder, sending small drops over the edge and onto his friend's tunic.

Amused by his friend's slightly annoyed expression at the spilling of wine on his clothes, he chuckled. "Drink up Spock, we have a long day tomorrow!" At the other's confused look, he clarified, "We're going on another mission!"


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's note:** Thank you Rachel for your suggestion in your last review, and I'm pleased to tell you that your idea will be included in a later chapter, so look out for it! I hope you all enjoy the next chapter! Remember, if you have any suggestions on possible quests for the 'Trio', they are welcome and might be used later on! Thank you for reading so far. _

oOo

Geryon led the way as they picked their way up a steep and rocky hill, his heart thumping crazily in his ribs. This was the area where people disappeared, and for this reason the place had been avoided for generations. The added level of mystery only made it more terrifying. The newcomers were of course largely unaffected.

Glancing over his shoulder, he watched as they climbed along in his wake, bantering softly and discussing the possibilities of what they might encounter. He did not understand how they could not feel his fear. Though, he reflected, their lack of fear cancelled out his lack of bravado. Together, they were perfectly balanced. With them, he felt invincible; he could not fail. Gone was the quiet and wary Geryon of his home village, in his place walked a warrior in the making.

But even their presence could not diminish his fear at setting foot on this cursed ground.

He pulled his sword out of its sheath which rested on his belt buckle, working hard to prevent his hand from trembling. At least the weight of metal in his grasp gave him some small measure of being able to defend himself.

As he drew ever nearer to the avoided area, his mind involuntarily lighted upon memories of those he loved in his life. In front of his eyes once more he saw Melissa holding their beautiful baby boy, which had miraculously been brought into the world with no complications. Such an event was rare, and he was one of the very few who had had the fortune of avoiding birth related disasters.

The image faded and was replaced with the sight of his son learning to walk, gazing up at his father's eyes with childlike innocence, completely trusting in the strong hand that was keeping him upright. Geryon would not let him fall, and he was trusted implicitly. From that moment on, father and son had formed a bond so strong that it had only been broken by Epithemus' abduction. But even that gap had been closed, courtesy of the sky gods which had descended to their village.

Epithemus had been so in awe of these newcomers that he had begged and pleaded his father to join them on their quest to the forbidden land. Geryon had refused; he had lost his son once, he would not stand to lose him again. He only hoped that he would still be alive at the end of this task to see his son once more.

A feeling of incredible guilt built up within his chest as his son's accusing stare from earlier that morning once more penetrated his thoughts. His eyes showed once more the feeling of abandonment, and loneliness. His son had looked so lost in that instant that Geryon had almost thrown down his sword and returned to him, leaving the newcomers to travel alone.

But he did not. His very presence here was a testament to that will power which had been born within him in the past few days. He had promised to show them the way, and he would. In abandoning his family for a short while, he would secure the safety of many people for years to come. _The ends justify the means_.

His thoughts were interrupted by reaching a cave entrance. Frowning, he stood to the side and motioned for the others behind him to do the same. He had not known that this cave was here, and chided himself for thinking he knew a landscape which he had never visited. Anything could have been here, and he had been too busy reliving his memories. His lack of concentration could have gotten them killed.

"What is it?" Kirk whispered, coming to stand by his side.

"I don't know," Geryon replied, wincing at the slight quivering in his voice. "I have never been here before."

"Captain, I suggest that we arm ourselves."

Kirk nodded. "Geryon has the right idea," he nodded at the villager's sword, which was now shaking slightly in the man's unsteady grasp. "Get your swords ready."

As quietly as was possible, the newcomers unsheathed their swords (which had been donated to them by the village blacksmith as thanks for their last mission, and were currently favoured more than Geryon's spears), and held them slightly aloft.

"Jim..." Geryon ignored the doctor and continued to look into the cave. "I uh... forgot to mention... with all the excitement last night... that I don't know how to use a sword."

There was an ominous silence, and this time Geryon turned around to see that the Captain was starting to look worried. In his eyes Geryon could see that the man's worst fears had been confirmed; perhaps he had expected something like this to happen.

"What?" The villager snapped when no one else spoke. "You're supposed to be from Olympus; skilled in all things, but you do not know the Earthly art of sword fighting?"

The man bristled. "They didn't really have swords on Olympus, what with all the _thunderbolts_," he quipped, referring to Zeus' tendency to throw these at people below.

"Just..." his leader appeared to be at a loss for words. "Randomly swing at anything."

"But not at us," the solemn man added.

"Thanks for that _helpful_ advice Spock." The doctor quipped. "Although between your ears and the dark I might get confused enough to do just that."

Geryon waved his arm once more in an attempt to remind them all to be quiet. "We must go inside."

No one moved.

Spock strode forwards, raising his eyebrows at all of them. "Very well; I will go first."

Kirk followed him, smiling in relief at his first officer's offer. "Thanks Spock; you're a star."

The Vulcan halted and Geryon watched on curiously as he turned to face his commanding officer. "Captain, I fail to see how you could liken me to a self-luminous celestial body consisting of a mass of gas held together by its own gravity, in which the energy generated by nuclear reactions..."

McCoy interrupted, sounding extremely irritated. "It doesn't matter Spock. Just go into the cave so we don't die of old age out here."

Following the newcomers, Geryon watched apprehensively as the Vulcan at the front cautiously rounded various corners that existed within the walls of the caves. The air was cool, being out of the sunlight, and appropriate to their circumstances. Together with his nervousness, it chilled his very soul.

Every tiny sound echoed off the cave walls, making Geryon jump fearfully before common sense kicked in and told him that it was just a stone clattering off the boot of one of his companions. Gulping nervously, he gripped the sword harder in his sweaty grasp, hoping that he would at least have the chance to use it against whatever it was they were about to face.

They appeared to come full circle, and came upon another opening which they had missed the first time they had searched the cave.

"So this cave is doughnut shaped," McCoy observed helpfully, adrenalin making his voice shake slightly. Geryon was glad that he was not the only person affected by their surroundings.

"Fascinating."

Geryon ignored both comments, eyes riveted on the opening before him. The fear had been replaced with a desire to solve this mystery once and for all, and to avenge those who had fallen victim to whatever was within the depths of this cave.

"Should we go in?" His voice was now strong, and he welcomed the change.

As if in confirmation, they all began to walk towards the entrance together, surprised when it was wide enough to allow them all access at once. They found themselves in what, if they had been in a forest, might be described as a clearing. It was a large, round area with moss on the floor, but not so that the surface was slippery. Above them, there was a large gaping hole in what would have been the cave roof, but had fallen in on itself long ago.

The light of this section of the cave contrasted greatly with the dark, covered depths around it. Once their eyes had accustomed to the light, they all gazed around themselves nervously, fully expecting something to jump out at them. Swords raised and hearts pumping adrenalin through their bodies, it was several long, tense seconds before they realised that they were safe.

"There's nothing here," McCoy muttered.

"Extremely astute, Doctor." McCoy shot the Vulcan a glare for this comment.

"I don't understand..." Geryon murmured. "Where..." he trailed off as he continued to search the room for any sign of the people who had disappeared long ago. His eyes caught something at the edge of the shadows.

Ignoring the relieved chatter that was going on behind him, he walked forwards, eyes locked on the object before him. Trembling, he reached out and touched it, his hand jerking back as if it had been burned when he made contact. Shocked, he gasped audibly.

The three Enterprise officers immediately joined him, alerted by his cry.

"It's a skeleton," Geryon announced as they came nearer, his voice a hoarse whisper. "A human skeleton."


	9. Chapter 9

The village was quiet as Melissa sat by her son's side. Epithemus would not sleep, insisting on staying awake until Geryon returned and he could be sure of his safety. While Melissa understood her son's anxiety, she could not bear to watch as his eyes drooped in exhaustion as his body succumbed to the need to rest after horrific maltreatment in the dungeons of King Minos.

"Epithemus... go to sleep."

The boy shook his head stubbornly. "No. I'll wait until he comes back. Anyway it's daytime."

She sighed and placed a hand on his forehead, moving it back to stroke his messy hair in consolation. "He will be gone for a long time, and you need rest."

"I don't care. I won't lose him again."

"Son, I'll wake you up when he comes. You don't want to stay awake for him only to fall asleep and find out he comes in the morning, do you?"

Finally, she appeared to be getting through to him. "What if he comes soon?" Or maybe not.

"Then I can wake you," she insisted.

His lips moved into a pout. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. "Mum... what's that noise?"

Taken aback at this abrupt change in topic, she tilted her head to the side and listened intently. "I'm not sure..." Dread hit her stomach like ice at the lie. "I really think you should go to sleep now."

Ignoring her completely, Epithemus jumped out of his bed and ran outside. Yelling his name urgently, she followed. Outside, she saw her son standing, staring spell bound up at the bright blue sky.

Grabbing his arm, she tugged urgently. "Epithemus, get inside now!"

"What is it Mum?" He asked, not moving despite her cajoling.

"Something dangerous," She hedged, eyeing the dark blob moving across the sky, only fifty per cent sure what it was herself. "Now come inside. Don't make me carry you back in there!"

Finally acknowledging the authority in her tone, he turned and began to follow his mother back into their small house. Halfway there, he stopped and turned to stare at the sky once more, where the blob had grown in size and a shape could now be made out.

"It looks like a dragon," he whispered.

Alarmed, she turned and followed her gaze. He was right. There, in the sky and gliding ominously towards them, was a giant and lethal dragon, the likes of which she had never even heard of before.

Now frantically shoving her son towards the hill where her husband had gone, she screamed.

oOo

"A skeleton?" Kirk echoed. "So there is something here."

"It would appear so Captain," Spock agreed, holding up a bone for examination. "There also appear to be teeth marks."

"Teeth marks?" Geryon asked in fright.

"What sort of creatures could live in caves around here?" Kirk asked, turning to the villager.

Geryon racked his brains for any ideas or tales which he had heard recently. Unfortunately, they were only legends. "I..." he gulped, fully aware of what this meant. "I have heard of dragons. That's all I can remember at the moment that could have teeth that size," he nodded at the bite marks, which covered a good portion of bone.

"It would explain the whole in the roof," Kirk agreed.

"Oh Lord..." McCoy groaned. "This just gets better and better doesn't it?"

"So..." Geryon struggled to even believe that a dragon was a considered possibility. "The dragon created the whole in the roof?"

"Through trying to fly out of it, I suppose," Kirk explained.

"So it could come back at any moment..." McCoy muttered, letting the implications of that event hang in the air.

"Which leaves us to wonder where it is now..." Kirk pondered out loud. "In the daytime."

"I always thought that they hunt at night so they can't be seen."

"Apparently not here, Bones."

Geryon rushed to his feet as a sudden thought occurred to him. "The nearest village is mine. We have to stop it!"

"It might not be there," Kirk pointed out. "It could be anywhere."

"Captain, Geryon has made a logical assumption. I am in agreement with him."

"Why attack now?" Kirk reasoned. "It could have attacked at any point, so why now?"

"Maybe the people coming up here lured it out of hiding," Geryon suggested.

"But from what you tell me, that's been happening for generations."

"I don't know why it should attack now instead of before," Geryon admitted. "All I know is that something is telling me it is, and I want to stop it."

Geryon waited anxiously as the three men before him conferred quietly, practically hopping from foot to foot in agitation. They were losing time...

"Alright," Kirk finally said. "We'll come with you."

Geryon didn't need to be told twice.

oOo

Shrieking in terror, Melissa wrapped her arms around Epithemus protectively, unable to escape past the burning houses that surrounded them. Her son quivered in fear as he buried his head in her neck, unable to look as his life was ripped apart for a second time, so soon after he had just begun to put it back together.

Total pandemonium ruled.

The huge bulking mass of the dragon sailed through the air powerfully as it chased hapless villagers who were attempting to escape its grip. Fire gushing from its jaws, it incinerated several of Melissa's friends alive in one breath, and she had been helpless to watch. All that remained of them now was ash.

All around them, buildings had been burned to the ground, whilst others were still raging with angry fire. Every so often the atmosphere was punctuated by an enraged scream from the beast above them, punishing them for some deed which they did not remember doing.

She coughed as the smoke penetrated her lungs, rapidly robbing her of even the simple ability to breathe. Her heart sank with terror as she felt Epithemus go still in her arms, his head now lolling lifelessly on her shoulder. Frantically, she placed a hand in front of his mouth, but could feel not the slightest hint of breath. There was no pulse from the main artery in his neck.

Panicking, she laid him flat on the ground, taking care to keep his limbs from the all consuming fire. Gasping, she felt her lungs constrict painfully. Ignoring her own discomfort, she placed her lips over those of her son and breathed into him. Raising her head once more, she sucked in as much oxygen as she could and breathed again.

The flames crept closer.

Coughing and choking, she pumped his heart furiously, keeping blood going around his body. Tears streaked down her face, both from grief and from the smoke which irritated them. Still, she carried on trying to revive them.

Another scream pierced the air, and still the flames crept closer.

Giving up on her revival attempts on Epithemus, she arranged him so that he looked as though he were sleeping. Sinking down beside him as her own strength fled her, she lifted her arm to weakly brush his hair back from his pale and grimy face, placing a loving kiss upon his forehead.

Finally succumbing to the smoke after fighting against it for so long, her head lolled back on the ground, her near sightless eyes staring up at the cloudless sky.

The last thing that she heard was the voice of Geryon, rising above the crackling of the flames and consoling her in death.


	10. Chapter 10

Bellowing in rage, Geryon descended upon what used to be his village with sword held high. The fire reflected in his eyes as he saw the place where he had lived all his life burn down to the ground, mixing with the soil which had sustained it.

The terrified screams of women and children as they fled into the hills echoed in his ears as he glared at the monster responsible for this tyranny. The dragon was currently pursuing an old man who was hobbling away from the scene as fast as he could on aging legs. The man tripped, and the winged monster descended upon him, consuming him in fire in a matter of seconds. No evidence remained of any living being when the creature flew back into the air.

Remembering his family, he frantically searched the ruins for them, but could not find them. Fire licked at his clothes as he climbed through burning house after burning house in the hope that they had attempted to find refuge there. His cloak caught on fire, and he left it behind.

Reaching a wooden door which was stuck in place, he hacked at it with his sword like a man frenzied, the fire at his back urging him on. He no longer remembered the newcomers which had previously occupied his attention. He was completely focused on trying to find Melissa and Epithemus.

Bursting back outside, he staggered slightly as his sleeve caught a nail which jutted out of the door frame. The ripping sound accompanied the tearing of his heart as he finally caught sight of his family.

Surrounded by flame, his wife was bent over an indistinct shape, which he automatically knew to be his son. His son was unmoving, and his wife was clearly attempting resuscitation. Tears welling up in his eyes, he bellowed her name at the top of his lungs, but she did not hear.

Forcing himself to turn away, he searched for some way to reach them, but found only a bucket of water which would have no impact on the raging inferno before him. His wife's head bowed in defeat, and he knew that she had lost the battle against death for her son.

She swayed, and his heart filled with a cold dread. He screamed her name once more, voice choking on the smoke which surrounded him, lungs screaming as he shouted himself free of air. Spots dancing at the edges of his vision, he ran up to the edges of the wall of flame, still screaming at Melissa even as she collapsed to the ground. He saw her stroke her son's hair and he screamed once more in the hope that she would hear.

Her head turned towards him in that split second before death, and he knew that she had heard, even if she thought that it was an illusion of her dying mind. The thought gave him only a small measure of comfort.

"I should have been here, with them..." He gulped back the tears, his voice exiting his mouth in a high screech as he howled in grief.

A screech mirrored his, but from above, and he turned his now malevolent gaze to the heavens. Raising his sword above his head, he cursed the being in the sky, cursed everything he knew, until the words became an incoherent mixture of syllables.

He was unafraid as the dragon abruptly wheeled around and began diving towards earth. Instead, he held its gaze and raised his sword defiantly.

As he looked into the evil darkness of its eyes, he stabbed. He was instantly consumed by fire.

oOo

Skidding to a stop at the foot of the hill that they had climbed not long ago, Spock stared at the scene before him in a state of un-Vulcan shock. For an instant, the scene before him shimmered and he was once again on Vulcan, watching as his world was ripped apart. A high pitched scream echoed from the sky, and the image of Amanda swam tantalizingly before his eyes, and his hand once more reached out to stop her from falling.

He was too late...

Something shook his shoulder and he was snapped back to the present day, away from the familiar landscape of what used to be his home planet. He blinked in slight confusion at the bright blue eyes that were staring at him in concern.

"Spock, are you alright?"

Reality sank in completely, and he recognised the face as belonging to Doctor McCoy, with Kirk hovering just over his shoulder. Their expressions mirrored each other's. He swallowed and struggled to push the memories to the back of his mind. Beyond speech for the moment, he simply nodded.

McCoy did not look convinced, but was prevented from further speech by Kirk, who was looking up at the blue sky. "We found our dragon."

He followed his Captain's gaze, the surprise of seeing yet another mythical creature barely registering after all they had been through on this planet. "Indeed." A worry niggled at the back of his mind, and he searched the scene. "Where is Geryon?"

"He ran off when he saw what was happening."

"He's gone looking for his family," McCoy added.

Looking at the inferno before him, he thought it unlikely that Geryon would find his family alive. He decided not to comment on it, recognising that this was neither the time nor the place. There was of course still a slight chance that they would be found.

"We should help..." Kirk muttered, unable to look away from all the suffering in front of him.

"We would not be able to," he reminded his Captain.

"Spock's right Jim. The fire's too out of control, we'd just get caught up in it as well."

"I feel so helpless," Kirk said more to himself than anybody else. "I wish there was a way to help them."

"There may be one, Captain." At his comment, the other two officers turned towards him in confusion. "I may be able to attempt a mind meld with the creature."

Kirk's jaw dropped. "Wouldn't you have to _touch it_?"

Spock shook his head. "Negative. I possess the telepathic strength to attempt contact without touch."

Spock watched in fascination as his Captain's expression went through a multitude of changes; surprise, awe, and pride. "How many Vulcans can do that?"

"I do not recall the exact number; however it is a very low minority."

"You never told us you could do this," McCoy accused.

"I had no occasion to," he countered.

"Bones would probably have been terrified anyway if you had told us," Kirk chuckled. McCoy punched him in the arm.

"Jim this is no time for jokes!"

Kirk sobered instantly. "You're right. Ok Spock, are you willing to give it a shot."

"Affirmative."

"Off you go then. We'll protect you from any danger while you're in the meld."

Nodding in thanks and watching his friends form a protective barrier in front of him, he steepled his fingers and closed his eyes in concentration. Gathering all of his mental strength, he raised his hands to the sky and concentrated on projecting his consciousness through his fingertips.

His surroundings melted from him as he probed the sky creatures for the presence of the dragon. Ignoring the smaller insects and several fleeing birds, he finally found what he was looking for.

Suddenly, he felt another presence at the front of his mind. Its thoughts were undeniably alien and difficult to decipher, making it necessary for a deeper meld.

Arms shaking slightly from the effort, he projected more power through his fingertips, aware that this would have an extremely taxing effect on him if he kept it going for too long.

"My mind to your mind," he murmured, feeling the creature jerk its thoughts back slightly. He latched onto it harder and kept himself there, forcing his way in. "My thoughts to your thoughts..."

_We are becoming one._

_He flew above a grassy carpet of land, flowers punctuating the green at frequent intervals. Flapping his wings powerfully, he glided through the light air. Breathing the air in, he delighted in the cooling sensation in his lungs, allowing it to calm him after a day of hunting. Between his feet he carried his catch; dead and ready for him and his children to eat. _

_He slowed his wings down and alighted softly on the ground, a puff of smoke escaping his nostrils at the impact. Stretching after the long flight, he yawned slightly and made his way to the cave entrance, where he knew his young to be playing. _

_No one was there. _

_Concerned, he walked closer to a village which he knew to be nearby, worried that his children had decided to venture there against his warnings. They were not to disturb the people living there. Dragons did not kill people as a rule; they had an agreement. _

_His heart constricted as he caught sight of a small lump of limp flesh lying on the pathway towards the village. Dropping his catch he ran to the body as fast as he could, dismayed to see that it belonged to the youngest of his offspring. Nudging the youngling with his nose, he turned the body over so that the dark eyes were staring up into his. _

_Out of his side a long spear protruded. The people had killed his child. _

_Roaring in rage, he left the body behind and flew into the village to find the remainder of his offspring, and the one responsible for this atrocity. _

_Flying over the burning inferno beneath him, his rage built as he saw no sign of his children. Fire poured from his mouth at the people responsible; he blamed them all. Even the old man running for the woods. He cut the man down mercilessly, leaving a pile of ash within his wake. _

_The gaping hole in his heart was not filled by the slaughter of the creatures which he had before sworn never to kill. Occasionally one would stray too far to his home and was killed by accident or one of his children, but he had never outright killed so many. He had shied away from the idea. _

_Now he shied away from the thought of sparing even a single one of these murderers. They must pay for what they did. _

_Suddenly, he felt something latch onto his consciousness. Something foreign. _

_Shrieking in alarm, he attempted to pull away from the foreign influence, which only latched onto his mind harder. Shaking his head to try to shake off the being within his head, he dipped in the air and turned around, following the thought patterns. _

_Nostrils flaring and eyes bulging wide in anger at being violated, he flew closer and closer to the ground, ignoring the flames that licked at his underbelly. Wings pumping so furiously that he could feel the strain of his muscles, he caught sight of the creature inside his head standing just outside of the chaos, to other small creatures in front of it. _

_He did not see the enraged man in front of him until it was too late. _

_Maddened eyes glared into his from the edge of a wall of fire surrounded by burning houses, and the mouth of the man opened and closed in fury as they bellowed at the top of their lungs. A spear in their hand, they jabbed wildly at him, and he felt the searing pain of a metal spear head entering his chest cavity. _

_Fire engulfed the man responsible as the dragon gasped in pain. Wings giving out, he dropped to the ground heavily, blood pouring from the wound and onto the ground even as his own fire began to burn him. _

A sharp, stinging pain brought him back to reality. He was lying trembling on the floor, hands clutching his heart and moaning piteously.

"Spock, snap out of it!" McCoy demanded, slapping him across the face once more.

Gasping, the half Vulcan pushed himself upright, swaying slightly at the sudden movement. He felt strong arms catch and steady him, lowering him back to the ground.

"What happened?" This was the voice of his Captain.

"The creature was stabbed by Geryon. It is dead, and so is he."

"No..." Kirk murmured. "You must be mistaken."

"I regret that I am not," he rasped weakly, feeling what was left of his strength rapidly leaving him. "I saw it through the mind meld."

"Jim, we need to get away from here," McCoy reminded the Captain, as the latter stared at the inferno, a look of profound pain on his face.

Kirk nodded. "Let's follow the survivors into the forest."

"What if the fire spreads to the forest?"

Kirk shrugged. "They probably have a reason for going there. We might as well follow."

Spock attempted to push himself to his feet, but groaned as a wave of vertigo hit him. He had barely even managed to lift his head off the floor. Weakly, he allowed his head to rest on the ground once more, and closed his eyes in a weary attempt to gather strength. Barely hearing the concerned voices above and around him, he attempted to push himself to his feet once more, surprised to see that he had succeeded.

Opening his eyes curiously, he discovered that he was being supported by both Kirk and McCoy, who were half dragging half carrying him to safety. He attempted to protest that he had the strength to travel alone, but all that came out of his mouth was a breathy wheeze.

Instead, he decided to concentrate on moving his feet, but only managed a few steps before exhaustion dragged him down and darkness claimed him.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Author's note:** I'd just like to warn you at this point that from here, some of the myths get changed slightly and might not be exactly as told in the stories. Hopefully this won't cause too many problems, but I thought it was only fair to tell you before you read this chapter. Also, thank you to those who have read and reviewed so far; your input has been a great help!_

oOo

A week later, and the village was still trying to put itself back together with the help of the three officers from the Enterprise. The entire area where they used to live had been burnt to the ground, along with their livestock and possessions. The only things that survived were objects which the villagers had carried with them when they had escaped.

They had fled into a new clearing in the forest nearby to where they used to live, which ran alongside a river and would provide a better chance of avoiding another catastrophe like this. They would be able to use the water from the river to put out the fire, or simply cross to the other side and allow the water to give them some time to escape.

They had spent the last week gathering wood to build temporary houses for the remaining survivors who had not died of injuries, and they had already made remarkable progress. Kirk and Spock (once he had recovered) had helped with the house building as far as they possibly could, while McCoy tended to the injured. Some had died of infection and exposure, but those who had survived were rapidly healing and helping with the rebuilding of their lives.

McCoy finished tying a bandage around the knee of a young child, murmuring comforting words as the child flinched and whimpered slightly in pain. Smiling in encouragement, he looked straight into the child's innocent eyes, hoping his voice did not sound as bleak as he felt.

"You've been very brave, son."

"Thank you," the boy replied shyly, before limping off to his makeshift shelter, where his mother waited for him.

Sighing, McCoy looked up and out into the forest, only expecting to see the dark green undergrowth that he always saw when he did so. Instead, there was a figure walking towards them, following the trail of the river.

"Someone's coming!" He shouted out, when he did not recognise the person.

Instantly there was a flurry of motion within the camp as everyone gathered around McCoy, some with spears raised and others armed only with curiosity. The villagers, who had once been so welcoming and accommodating, had become wary of visitors after their ordeal.

The stranger ignored this activity, and simply continued to walk along the path, eyes on the target. They had a bedraggled appearance, as though they had been travelling for days, with a long beard and unruly hair. Finally, he reached the camp and stopped at a respectful distance. He nodded his head politely and held up his hands to show that he was not dangerous.

Several scouts came back to the main camp group and reported on their findings while the stranger patiently waited. "There's no one else there. It doesn't look like a trap."

The newly appointed village leader who was in charge of rebuilding, Abeiron, nodded at this news. "Then he is welcome... if his intentions are good." He raised his voice so the stranger could hear. "Who are you?"

The stranger lowered his arms cautiously and relaxed slightly when the villagers lowered their weapons in turn. "I am Aegeus, former doctor to King Minos."

"Former Doctor to King Minos?" Abeiron repeated in suspicion. "Why have you left his court?"

"I was forced out," the physician explained patiently, "because I was suspected for a crime against His Majesty."

"Which crime?" Abeiron questioned, his patience obviously wearing thin at the ambiguous answers which were provided.

"The escape of three sky devils."

"Sky devils?" The entire village laughed at this. "They are not devils; they've helped us to rebuild our lives."

Aegeus took a wary step forwards. "You know them?"

"They are here." Abeiron gestured to the Enterprise officers standing by his side.

Aegeus' eyes narrowed when he saw Spock. "I remember you. You're the one who fought the Minotaur."

Spock nodded. "I am."

Aegeus had by now reached the camp and was now standing among the men who had previously been wary of him. "Your wounds were difficult to heal; how did you recover so quickly?"

"Your mixture caused my healing processes to increase in speed," Spock explained.

"_You're_ the one who made that potion?" McCoy asked, instantly intrigued.

"Yes," Aegeus replied. "But I have never seen it work so fast before."

"Then how did it work so fast?" Kirk questioned, contributing to the conversation for the first time.

"I'd like to find that out," McCoy murmured thoughtfully.

Abeiron interrupted their conversation by taking Aegeus by the arm. "I can see that you are exhausted from your travels. We have some food and shelter; it's not much but we are willing to share what we have."

Aegeus nodded wearily. "Thank you. That's exactly what I need."

"If you don't mind me asking," Abeiron began once they were safely inside, away from the crowd, "how did you escape?"

Aegeus sat down with a sigh of contentment, taking a cautious sip from a drink handed to him. "A friend of mine warned me of the threat, so I snuck out the grounds before the alarm was sounded. The guards knew me, so it wasn't a problem. Then I caught a ride on a boat going in this direction, and here I am." He finished his drink and turned to Kirk. "I hear you escaped as well?"

"All three of us did," Kirk smirked at the memory.

"How?"

"Well..." It was obvious to those who knew him that Kirk was pondering the funniest possible way to say this explanation. "We just sort of... _soared_ out of their sight, light as a feather."

Aegeus contemplated this for a moment before getting the hint. "You _flew_??!"

"That's right," McCoy affirmed. "I can't believe it either."

"I thought it was only possible in legends! I've never actually heard of people achieving it."

"People have attempted this method of travel in the past?" Spock asked curiously, the word 'fascinating' practically written across his forehead.

Aegeus gave him a funny look. "Of course. How else do you think we're supposed to fly?"

"How about..." McCoy gestured as though he was thinking of this off the top of his head. "Metal birds with engines?"

Aegues and Abeiron gave each other a look before bursting out laughing, clutching their sides in mirth. Finally, Abeiron managed to splutter an answer, "That's the strangest idea I've heard in my life. What would you call these 'metal birds'... _if_ they work, which they probably wouldn't. Metal is probably too heavy to fly compared to feathers."

"'Aeroplanes'," McCoy muttered, avoiding Kirk's amused glance.

Aegeus nodded as though entertaining a slow child. "You'll be telling us that you can make a ship go underwater next!" Abeiron guffawed at the ridiculous image.

"Actually..." McCoy began, but Spock cut him off.

"Doctor, I believe that they have heard enough of your theories for the moment."

"Theories my a-" McCoy bristled.

"Bones," Kirk interrupted gently.

"Is this the sort of technology you have on Olympus?" Abeiron asked.

"Yes..." Kirk replied carefully. "You could say that... but our ideas are more up to date now. We can now go from one place to the other without even moving, although this is still being developed properly, because of Scotty's apparent issue with transporting dogs which never come back, but..." He trailed off as McCoy kicked him gently in the leg and Spock gave him the Vulcan equivalent of a 'shut up now' look.

"So it is true then," Aegeus concluded. "You really are from the sky." He leaned forward so that he was closer to them. "What is life like up there?"

"Comfortable," Kirk replied, a faraway expression glazing his eyes at the mention of the Enterprise. "You wouldn't believe the things you can do on the shi—Olympus." He corrected himself just in time. McCoy carefully resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"What brought you to the world of mortals?" Aegeus continued to question. Abeiron seemed content to just sit back and listen to the answers as they came.

"It was not our intention," Spock replied.

"It was a mistake," Kirk clarified.

Abeiron looked stricken as he considered the beings before him. "Then you must get back!"

"Don't you think we know that?" McCoy muttered, more to himself than to anybody else.

"We can't," Kirk explained, drowning out McCoy's comment intentionally. "Our... transport...is broken."

Abeiron looked troubled, but Aegeus suddenly leaped into the conversation, an excited look on his face. "I know someone who can help you return to Olympus."

"You do?" Kirk sounded about as shocked as McCoy felt.

Aegeus nodded emphatically. "Yes. I can take you to her tomorrow. She lives not far from here; about a day's walk."

"We're needed here..." Kirk began, but Abeiron waved him off impatiently.

"We can handle things now," he assured them. "You've done all you can, and we are grateful for it. We wouldn't want you to lose your chance of getting home."

"Who exactly is it that we'd be seeing?" McCoy asked warily.

"Aithra. She's a well known wise woman who specialises in potions and chants. She can send you back."

"Wonderful." McCoy muttered.

Not for the first time, Kirk slapped him on the shoulder. "Lighten up Bones; we can go home!"

"If potions work."

"Why should they not?" Spock asked, surprising both Kirk and McCoy.

After a few moments of shocked silence, Kirk got control of his speech back. "He's right; he was cured by a potion, remember? We definitely have a chance."

McCoy, rather than commenting more, simply regarded the set expressions on the faces of his two superior officers, and groaned. Who knew what the future would bring on this planet.


	12. Chapter 12

McCoy scowled and swore as he tripped over a particularly offensive rock which lay on the path. Kirk glanced back and gave him a sly smile. "Are you alright back there Bones? You're sure you don't want to walk up front with the rest of us?"

McCoy's scowl deepened. "I'm walking as fast as I can, damnit!" He kicked another rock out of his way. "Damn rocks..."

Kirk suddenly yelped, and for a savage few seconds, McCoy thought that he had succeeded in hitting his Captain with a stray rock. Then he remembered that his aim was not good enough to do this, and looked up to see what the problem was.

He was greeted by an odd sight.

Kirk stood still on the path, arms flapping madly about his head as he tried to ward off some kind of flying creature which was currently plaguing him. The creature was bat like in appearance, with a snout and a snake tail, which glittered in the light. All McCoy and Spock could do was stop and stare at the bizarre sight, whilst Aegeus worked frantically to help Kirk rid himself of this attacker. Finally their brains kicked into gear, and together they chased away the bizarre creature.

Kirk stood, doubled over and panting, more from adrenalin than exertion. "What... was _that_?"

"A bat." Aegeus replied simply.

"Fascinating. I do not remember this species of bat being present in Greek mythology."

"Probably because they weren't," McCoy quipped. "We _are_ on a different planet in a different universe, remember?"

"So we agreed on that explanation then?" Kirk asked, gradually slowing his breathing.

"Yes." Spock's one word was so long suffering and patient that McCoy only just managed to stop himself from laughing.

Kirk snorted. "Maybe we'll find furry turtles next."

Aegeus gave him a funny look. "That would be ridiculous."

"Then what's that?" Kirk asked, pointing at something by his boot.

Aegeus bent down and carefully examined this new creature. He stood back up, grinning in amusement. "That is a furry tortoise, not a turtle."

Kirk sputtered indignantly. "They look so similar!"

The wind, which had been steadily blowing since they had left the village, suddenly began to increase in speed. Fat drops of rain landed upon the shoulders of the travellers, summoning a downpour of warm droplets of water which soon drenched everything in sight. Stiffening in the sudden change of weather, the group attempted to make a shelter using the material around them, which was limited due to a woeful lack of trees in the region. Several minutes later, they sat and huddled together in their hurriedly put together hut.

"Anemoi is playing up," Aegeus muttered, staring at the effects of the violent wind.

"Spock, get in the shelter!" McCoy bellowed over the howl of the wind at the reluctant Vulcan, who was dithering in the doorway.

"I would rather not, Doctor. Such close proximity is uncomfortable to touch telepaths."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "So you'd prefer to catch Vulcan flu? Can you please explain to me how that's logical, Mr-I-cannot-possibly-be-illogical-because-the-Universe-would-implode?"

When Spock failed to explain a suitable explanation that appeased the Doctor, Kirk stepped in. "Get in here Spock! Consider that an order."

Still Spock looked reluctant, and with a few annoyed mutterings, Kirk dragged himself to his feet. Grabbing the sleeve of the now sodden Vulcan, he pulled the man backwards into the hut, tripping over McCoy's feet as he did so. Yelling in alarm, Kirk landed heavily against the shelter, Spock crashing into him. There was an ominous creaking before the rickety shelter gave out under their combined weight. Once more, the rain pelted mercilessly down upon them even as the wind terrorised them.

"God damn it Jim!" McCoy suddenly roared. "If you do one more stupid thing while we're on this planet, I'll hypo you until you've got more holes than Swiss cheese!" A lightning bolt punctuated his statement.

"Now that's pathetic fallacy," was all Kirk had to say.

McCoy was gradually beginning to turn puce. "Can't you even be serious for five seconds?"

Kirk's face turned mock sombre. "Of course I can. Just ask Spock and he'll tell you I've been serious for more than five seconds."

"You _know_ that's not what I meant!" McCoy growled. Another lightning bolt punctuated his statement.

"Are you sure you're not subconsciously controlling the weather, Bones?"

Aegeus shook his head, gazing fearfully at the sky. "It's Zeus. He must be angry."

"He can join the club," McCoy snarled, glaring at Kirk.

"We haven't done anything," Kirk pointed out intelligently. He was narrowly missed by a stray lightning bolt. "On second thoughts...maybe we have."

Aegeus stood up and raised his arms to the sky. "What have we done?"

McCoy tugged frantically on the man's robes to no avail. "Don't make yourself the highest place in a _lightning storm_! Am I the only one with common sense around here?" Kirk stood up and joined Aegeus. "Jim!"

Kirk barely spared a glance for McCoy. "We need to show him we're not afraid."

"Jim, it's a _storm_, not a 'him'." As it had for Kirk, a stray lightning bolt narrowly missed him.

"It would appear that the storm does not agree with your hypothesis, Doctor."

"What have we done?" Aegeus questioned, ignoring the commotion behind him. As if in answer, the remnants of their shelter blew away, revealing two small bundles lying in the mud.

Ever the curious scientist, Spock stood up and examined them. "Fascinating. We have discovered a multicoloured species of turtle."

"I _knew_ it!" Kirk bellowed. Another lightning bolt aimed itself at him. "Alright, alright!" He conceded, putting his hands up in surrender. "I said furry turtles not multicoloured ones." He lifted an accusing finger. "You're picky." Cue another lightning bolt. "Right...obviously this is going to happen every time I speak...so I won't talk." The lightning paused momentarily, and Kirk scowled.

"Hallelujah," McCoy muttered.

Meanwhile, Spock had beckoned Aegeus over to the dead turtles, and both were discussing possible theories. "One male and one female."

Aegeus nodded. "I've never seen this type of turtle before. It might be a test run for a new species."

"Then the punishment is for ruining the results." Spock deduced.

At this news, Kirk's eyes lit up and he redirected his attention to the sky, opening his mouth to speak. There was an ominous rumble. The Captain lifted his arms up, palms shown outwards in a universal sign of peace. "Wait, just listen. You might be interested in what I have to say."

With bated breath, the travellers waited until they noticed that the lightning bolts became less frequent, and the wind died down slightly. Encouraged, Kirk began to speak again.

"I understand that you're angry about us killing the first two multicoloured turtles in existence," the wind howled in agreement. Unfazed, Kirk ploughed on, and McCoy could not help but admire him for this. "But with shell colours like that, it was just a matter of time before they got eaten." The sound that followed sounded like a roar of outrage, as they were almost knocked over by the sheer force of wind.

"Damn it Jim!" McCoy bellowed. "Remember our talk about _tact_?"

"Right..." Kirk continued when he could be heard once more and the outburst had stopped. "Well...I'm sorry but it's true." He leaped aside to avoid a lightning bolt. "We didn't mean to kill them!"

"We didn't know they were there; it was an accident," Aegeus clarified.

"Perhaps," Spock cut in, when it became obvious that the other two were making no progress, "it would be possible to create two more turtles?" The lightning bolts stopped.

"Keep talking," Kirk urged frantically when the wind remained.

"It is not Zeus who is in control of the wind," Spock replied. "Therefore it would be illogical to continue in my endeavour as we have eliminated Zeus' anger already. It would be far more pragmatic to discover the reason for the wind and attempt to eliminate it."

Aegeus shook his head. "Then we cannot stop it."

"Why not?" Kirk questioned.

"Because wind is a natural part of our normal weather; it doesn't mean there's a reason behind it."

"We must continue," Spock announced.

McCoy grimaced as he looked around. "Shouldn't we try to find somewhere warm? We're all going to catch pneumonia at this rate." He shivered to outline his point.

Spock's eyebrow flew to his hairline. "Where would you suggest we shelter, Doctor? There is a much higher possibility of retrieving shelter if we continue."

Aegeus nodded. "Especially since Aithra lives in a cave."

"The cave it is then," McCoy threw back over his shoulder, already on his way to warm shelter which was now envisioned in his cold numbed mind.

oOo

They arrived at sunset.

Stumbling through the near dark, with arms wrapped around frozen midsections, the entire party of travellers thankfully gathered just inside the entrance of a cave which had seemed to loom in front of them tantalizingly for several minutes already, but never seemed to get any closer to them.

There was a slight shuffling and through the gloom, a silhouette appeared, a makeshift torch held aloft for extra light. Curious eyes peered at them, and a silky voice caressed the air. "Who are you?"

Aegeus stepped forwards. "We are weary travellers looking for shelter from the storm."

The suspicion did not leave the voice, even when the torch was lowered slightly. "Then you are welcome. Come inside."

Obediently, they followed her further back into the cave, where living quarters of sorts had been arranged. Sinking onto a pile of animal skins, Aithra regarded them with curiosity. She gestured them to sit. "I sense that you are here for something more."

"Yes," Kirk replied carefully. "We...came from the sky, and we can't get back."

"We heard that you are skilled in the area of potions and chants," McCoy added. "We hoped that you would know of a way to return."

"You wish to return to Olympus?" She questioned, incredulously. "Then you are fallen gods!"

"No," Aegeus replied quickly. "No; they are not fallen. It was an accident that brought them here, not any misbehaviour on their part."

"In that case..." Aithra sounded slightly relieved at this news. "I might be able to help you, but not completely."

"What do you mean, 'not completely'?" Kirk asked, sounding every bit as confused as he looked.

"I know the herbs necessary to go with the chant that will send you home, but I have never possessed them myself."

McCoy felt his heart sink to his feet even as he opened his mouth to speak. "Which herbs do you need?"

Aithra rattled off an extensive list, but with each word Aegeus appeared to be more hopeful, even as McCoy felt more pessimistic. "I know where to find them!"

"Then you must leave at once," Aithra advised. "I forsee that the gathering of these materials will not be an easy task."

"You can say that again," McCoy drawled. "With us, nothing is ever easy."

oOo

Author's Note: I apologise for the lateness of this update, but hope you all enjoyed the longer chapter. I'm going to be honest and say I'm not sure when the next one will be up, but fingers crossed it will be soon.


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